


The Doctor's Crush

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This mainly takes place in the fourth season of Criminal Minds. You are 26, and you have been considered a child prodigy throughout your life. You have countless doctorates, and you dominate Chess and Poker. You have an outstanding IQ of 188, and you can read 20,500 words per minute. You were the youngest Lieutenant General in U.S. history, before you quit to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI. You were assigned Agent Aaron Hotchner's team, which, by chance, already had a child prodigy...
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr., Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	1. Child Prodigy

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story EVER, so I'm sorry if it's bad..Enjoy!

The sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing filled your ears as you drifted into consciousness. You sighed, and stretched your sore limbs that haven't been in use for hours. You slowly rose out of your comfortable bed and began to prepare for your new job at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. To say that you were excited would be an understatement. Before you fell asleep, your limbs were twitching with anticipation and excitement. You had to concentrate on slowing your breathing and containing your joy. As you rose from your bed, you glanced at the clock.

It was 6:47. You went to your posh bathroom to examine yourself in the mirror. Your caramel hair was frizzy and knotted, and, to be frank, you looked like hell. You didn't fall asleep until about 2 in the morning, so that gave you only 4 hours of sleep. You exhaled, and decided that the first step to rejuvenate yourself was to wash your face. You grabbed your Squeezy Clean citrus face wash and began to rub your face. You closed your eyes and mouth to wash over them, and you rinsed your face, careful not to splash water everywhere. You dried yourself off, and looked back into the mirror. The answering reflection didn't look quite as bad as it did.

You then concentrated on your frizzy bird's nest of hair. You grabbed your hairbrush and delicately began to brush it. Some knots were so stubborn you had to apply special lotion that detangled knots. When you finished, you actually looked pretty decent. You debated on straightening your hair, but your hair was too wavy to actually get it to lie straight. Even if you decided to straighten your natural curls, it would take hours. You opened the cabinet and got out your toothbrush and toothpaste, and began your usual bushing routine. Once you were finished, you finished it off with mouthwash. You didn't want to leave a stinky impression, pun intended.

As you put away everything neatly and walked out to change, you glanced at the clock again. 7:16. You had to get in by 7:30, so you quickened the pace a bit. You sped-walked to your walk-in closet and rummaged around for something acceptable to wear for work. You looked around, and you grumbled to yourself. 98% of the clothes you own are either too casual, or too dressy. After countless minutes of moot rummaging, you decided on an oversized gray turtleneck, a denim-black work skirt that was just above your knees, and a pair of simple, white Converse. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and grew slightly frustrated.

You were 26 years old, 5'4, and 120 pounds. This made you look like a fetus compared to those skilled FBI agents. You grabbed your round, black-rimmed glasses and shoved them on your face to see clearly. You checked the weather on your phone. It was Tuesday, 57 degrees Fahrenheit, and it was supposed to rain today. Since you get cold pretty easily, you grabbed a nude trench coat that flowed to your calf. You checked the time again. 7:23. You fixed your hair so it framed your olive-toned face perfectly, grabbed your go-bag that was used for cases, and strode out the door.

Just as you predicted, it was cold outside. you hurried to your car, and began driving to the FBI building, constantly checking the time. It was already 7:25. You saw the FBI building in the distance, so you pushed your car slightly faster than the speed limit, earning honks from road-ragers. You pulled into the parking lot, and entered the lobby. You felt like the majority of people were staring at you, and they were. They had never seen you in the building before, and they probably thought that you were lost. You approached the receptionist, an elderly woman with graying hair and an odd outfit.

You smiled politely, showing off your adorable dimples. "Excuse me, do you know where the BAU floor is in this building?" you asked, your voice suddenly quivering with excitement. She smiled, showing off a row of slightly decaying teeth. "Sixth floor, honey. First day?" she inquired. You nodded happily. "Good luck, honey." she said sweetly. You smiled again. "Thank you." And with that, you walked towards the elevator, pressing the button to the sixth floor. You waited in the elevator, unable to conceal your squeal of excitement. The elevator *dinged* at the sixth floor, but you found yourself unable to move your jelly-legs,

The floor wast buzzing with the hustle and bustle of the B.A.U. You peered around anxiously, looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner's office. You finally found the courage to move your legs when the elevator tried to close its doors. You exited the elevator, and approached a blonde woman with a friendly face. Her and her co-workers were watching you, but when you began to approach them, they scattered, trying to look busy. "Excuse me, do you know where Agent Hotchner's office is?" you asked her shyly. She smiled, and pointed to a room that was just above them. "Right there, the third room." she said. You thanked the kind woman, and headed for his office.

You knocked gently, and you heard someone murmur, "Come in." You opened the door, and stepped inside his office. Agent Hotchner was not one to smile. "Good morning. You must be Dr. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." He held out his hand, which you shook. I nodded in confirmation. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the blonde woman and her co-workers watching you again. "It's a pleasure to have you on our team." You smiled, once again showing off your dimples. "The pleasure's all mine, sir." He guided you out of the room. "Come. Let's introduce you to your fellow co-workers." You followed him, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

He led you downwards, and towards the blonde woman. Everyone was there, although there was someone new that joined them. A very tall man that looked too young to be in the FBI, although you probably looked even younger than him. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Dr. (Y/N)(Y/L/N). She will be the new recruit to the B.A.U." An aging man with Italian looks stepped forward, and extended his hand. "Agent David Rossi. Nice to meet you, kiddo." You grimaced slightly at his nickname, but smiled politely, and shook his hand. "Likewise." You replied. The blonde woman stepped forward, and extended her hand as well. "Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ." she smiled kindly, which you returned. 

"Nice to meet you, JJ." you beamed. A tall woman with midnight-black hair and bangs extended her arm. "Agent Emily Prentiss." she smiled. Her smile suited her features. You shook her hand. She had a very strong grip. "Nice to meet you." A slightly chubby blonde woman rushed forward, but instead of shaking your hand, she engulfed you in a tight hug. You returned the hug awkwardly. After a few seconds, she pulled away. "I'm so sorry, I just couldn't resist! I'm the Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia." the woman chriped. You couldn't help but return her enthusiasm. "So nice to meet you!" 

A man with dark skin stepped forward. He vaguely reminded you of a Roman or Greek god. You felt your cheeks flush. "Derek Morgan." he grinned. "Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N). Nice to meet you." His grin grew wider. "Doctor, eh? Looks like pretty boy found himself a pretty girl." He nudged the youth next to him, who swatted his arm, his cheeks crimson. You extended your hand towards the youth. "Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N)." you smiled. Prentiss interrupted you. "Oh, (Y/N) he doesn't shake—" He shook my hand firmly. "Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to meet you." Your smile grew wider. "Nice to meet you, pretty boy." you teased. His cheeks flushed.


	2. Any Other Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically the first chapter through Spencer's eyes. This also introduces a case similar to Criminal Mind's Season 4 Episode 14 Cold Comfort. Enjoy!

_**Spencer's P.O.V ** _ ****_****_

I felt the warm rays of sunlight as I became conscious. That was the first real sleep I've had in _months. _I slept pretty well. I stifled a yawn, and stretched my legs and arms before rising up from my bed. As I looked out the window, the sun had disappeared. It was replaced with gloomy clouds. It's probably going to rain. I stretched once more, before looking at the clock. 7:14. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and made an attempt to brush my curly hair. I gave up with a sigh, and changed into my usual outfit; a blue sweater vest, a purplish tie, and dark slacks. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my go-bag and raincoat, and checked the time. 7:22. I rushed out the door, and into my car.__

__

__I sped to the FBI building, checking the time when I pulled into the parking lot. 7:25. I have about 5 minutes to spare. However, when I was about to go inside, I saw someone. She was someone I had never seen inside _or _outside the building. She looked the the Greek Goddess Demeter, with her flowing, light-brown hair, her jade-green eyes, and her olive skin-tone. In other words, she was drop-dead gorgeous. I smiled to myself. I've never used that term, drop-dead gorgeous. She talked to the receptionist, a sweet, elderly woman, and walked inside the elevator, blocking my view from a literal angel. Was it just me, or did she actually radiate light and sunshine?___ _

___ _

___I basically ran inside, hoping to catch up to her, but she was already gone. Instead, I took the elevator next to the one she took to reach my destination, the B.A.U floor. I waited patiently in the elevator, random elevator facts zipping around in my mind. After maybe thirty seconds, the elevator opened up with a *ding* and I stepped onto the busy B.A.U floor. I walked over to where JJ and the others were grouped, looking at something above us. I deposited my belongings in my cubicle, then went to go stand with them. "What is everyone looking at?" I murmured to JJ._ _ _

___ _

___She pointed to Hotch's office, and then I saw her. The angel. She and Hotch were talking about something. "Is she the new member Hotch has been bragging about?" Emily whispered. JJ nodded. "More importantly, do you think I stand a chance?" Derek questioned. Emily giggled, and JJ slapped Derek's arm. Rossi joined us. "What's with the group?" he asked. JJ pointed to Hotch's office. "Is she the new member?" I asked, trying to conceal the hopefulness in my voice. Rossi nodded, and my heart soared happily. "I see you guys are spying on young Dr.(Y/L/N)." I was taken aback. "She's a doctor?" Penelope giggled, and gave me a suggestive look._ _ _

___ _

___I could feel the heat creep up on my cheeks as Penelope wiggled her eyebrows, and giggled again. Derek slung his arm around me. "Listen, kid," he began seriously. "If you let something as lovely as her walk by you, I'm going to personally sue you." I smacked his arm, and he laughed. "Everyone, scatter! They're coming!" Penelope hissed. Everyone ran to their cubicle, with the exception of Penelope, as she pretended to chat with Derek. I glanced at Hotch's office, and sure enough, they were descending down the stairs._ _ _

My heart was racing as she stood dutifully besides Hotch. "Everyone, I would like you to meet the newest addition to the team, Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N)." Rossi stepped forward, and extended his hand. "Agent David Rossi. Nice to meet you, kiddo." I could tell that she didn't particularly enjoy the nickname, but smiled politely, and shook his hand. "Likewise." she replied. My heart fluttered as she smiled. She had the most adorable smile, and dimples go along with it. JJ stepped forward and extended her hand as well. "Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ." she smiled kindly. (Y/N) returned the smile sweetly.

Emily was next to step forward, and she shook (Y/N)'s hand. "Agent Emily Prentiss." she smiled. I knew from personal experience that Emily had a _really _strong grip. She broke my knuckle once. I winced slightly at the memory, and subconsciously rubbed my knuckle. "Nice to meet you, Emily." (Y/N) replied. She was really the sweetest person I've ever met, being all smiles and dimples. Penelope rushed forward, and engulfed (Y/N) in a bone-crushing hug. (Y/N) returned the hug slightly awkwardly. After a few seconds, she pulled away. "I'm so sorry, I just couldn't resist! I'm the Technical Analyst, Penelope Garcia." Penelope chirped. Nobody could resist Penelope's enthusiasm. "So nice to meet you!"__

__

__Derek stepped up, and shook her hand. I could tell that she was flustered by Derek's presence. I mean, who wouldn't, right? "Derek Morgan." he grinned. "Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N). Nice to meet you." She replied politely. His grin grew wider. "Doctor, eh? Looks like pretty boy found himself a pretty girl." He nudged me, slightly snickering. I swatted his arm, my cheeks turning crimson. She extended her hand towards me, beaming. "Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N).". Her smile was absolutely blinding. Emily interrupted us. "Oh, (Y/N) he doesn't shake—" Before she could ruin this moment, I shook her hand firmly. "Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to meet you." Her smile grew wider, her dimples deepening slightly. "Nice to meet you, pretty boy." she teased. My cheeks flushed._ _

__

__I noticed small details about her as she looked up at me. Behind her round glasses, her green eyes were flecked with brown in the middle. So, she had hazel eyes. I also noticed that small freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. They were also very cute. Everything about her was cute. The handshake ended too soon for my liking. JJ nudged me suggestively, and my cheeks reddened once more. "JJ, do we have a case?" Hotch asked. She gave me another look, and nodded. "Yes, sir." She grabbed folders off of her desk, and motioned for everyone to follow her inside of the conference room._ _

We all took a seat, (Y/N) sitting next to me as JJ presented. "There's been a string of abductions in Olympia, Washington going back nine months. Four women in all, blonde, blue-eyed, early twenties." JJ seemed a little unsettled by this, which was probably due to the fact that she was all of these things. "This morning, they found one." JJ sat down, across from Hotch. "When were they taken?" Hotch inquired. "Nine months ago." JJ responded. "So, she was the first?" Emily piped. JJ nodded. She pressed a button, and the screen image changed, showing a decaying body. "Looks almost mummified.." Rossi murmured. JJ clicked her tongue. "Uh, not exactly." "Frozen?" Derek asked. 

JJ turned to look at him. "Embalmed." "That's different." Emily muttered. "Yeah, so the time of death is a bit of a question mark right now." JJ acknowledged. "Where did they find her?" Rossi questioned. "In a state park, just east of Olympia. Seasonal hiking area." JJ answered. "The body was jarred loose during a mudslide." I saw (Y/N) shudder slightly in my peripheral vision. "That, plus the abnormal decomp makes it difficult to know how long she was there." "It says the victims were abducted three months apart." I finally spoke up. "He's rotating his victims out." "There are gonna be more bodies out there." Hotch spoke.

"Everyone, grab your go-bags. We're headed for Olympia. Wheels up in thirty." And with that, everyone rose up, and exited the room. "(Y/N)." Hotch called. She turned around. "Yes, sir?" He motioned for her to walk towards him. I pretended to take extra long to pack up my belongings to see what was going on. Hotch handed her a large box. "This is for your cubicle." he stated. Her small legs quivered at the weight. "Thank you, sir." she strained, and she walked right out. I finished packing up, and followed her out. I tried to find the confidence to ask her if she needed help.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "D-Do you need help with that?" I asked, tripping over my words. She looked at me right in the eye, and beamed. My heart exploded. "Oh my God, I would appreciate that so much!" (Y/N) handed me her heavy box, and in return, took my things. This box wasn't that heavy. We walked towards her cubicle, which, by chance, was next to mine and Emily's. I set it down on her desk, and she gave me my things. "Thank you, doctor." She smiled once more before setting on putting away her things. Once she was finished, she grabbed her go-bag, and I got mine, and we both walked out to where Hotch was waiting for us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! I'm open to comments and constructed criticism. The case will continue in the next chapter.


	3. Embalming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case that I introduced in the last chapter will continue here!

_**Your P.O.V. ** __****_

You all boarded the jet that was set for Olympia. We all sat in a slight circle. Emily sat next to you, Spencer sat across from you, JJ sat next to Spencer, Rossi sat with Derek, and Hotch sat across from them. Emily had gotten up to get a drink. She returned with a question. "So, if I wanted to embalm a body, well, what's the process?" she asked. Derek looked up at her from the case file. "Start with some nose plugs." he responded. You piped up. "The blood is drained through the jugular vein and replaced with embalming fluid through one of the two major arteries. It usually takes a few hours."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, staring at you. You looked around, waiting for someone to say something. "What?" you finally demanded. "Not bad, little miss thing." Derek grinned. You smiled, and glanced around. Spencer seemed awe-struck. "You'd need special equipment, training." Rossi spoke. "Knowledge of the human vascular system would also be a plus." you added. "A doctor, maybe?" Emily questioned. "A nurse, technician, somebody with a background in mortuary sciences." Hotch answered. "Now, there's a major they didn't offer at my school." Derek muttered. You smiled faintly. "Personally, the whole thing just seems _weird _to me." Emily shuddered.__

"Embalming, I mean." Emily added. Derek shrugged. "Some people like to look good for their funeral." "But..it's not _them _. It's just a shell, polished and painted." Emily waved her hand while she talked. She sucked in air, and blew it out noisily. "I just wanna be cremated." "The question is, why would somebody embalm the body of someone they just murdered." Hotch spoke. "He wants to hold on to them," Rossi answered. "It's a possession issue." "This way, they can never leave." Derek added. "Maybe fear of abandonment speaks to his history."__

"But eventually, even an embalmed body will decay, and he finds himself in need of new victims." Spencer finally spoke. "That explains the abduction cycle--a new victim every three months." Hotch agreed. "Which means at least two of the remaining three women are already dead." Rossi murmured. "And the third?" JJ asked. "Brooke Lombardini. It's been four days since she, uh, disappeared following her shift at a local restaurant." Hotch answered. "We know the odds." "90% of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours." you and Spencer said at the same time. You two looked at each other, and you grinned. "Jinx!" Spencer groaned, and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

You and Spencer made a group to go investigate the scene where the other bodies were found. It was beginning to drizzle slightly, and you pulled your coat closer to yourself. The lead detective led you to the crime scene, explaining stuff on the way. "Hiker found a foot protruding from the soil right up here." he pointed to an area. "Whole side of the hill slid down from up there." "So, you're focusing the search in this area here?" you asked, pointing to an area where there certainly was a lot of investigators. "Yeah, but if he dumped other bodies here, he's got over 800 acres to work with." the detective responded.

"Keep your men near the fire road, detective. One man dragging a body through the woods.." Spencer trailed off. "One hundred-and ten pounds of dead weight. He's not gonna get far from the path." you finished. "That's why a lot of killers dismember their victims. They're easier to dispose of that way." Spencer added. "You think it says something about the profile because he didn't chop her up?" the detective asked. "Possibly, yeah." you answered. Something that shone caught your eye. You looked down, and felt around inside of a plant. You felt something between my fingers, and held it up.

You held up a golden cross. "What is it?" the detective asked. You held it up higher for them to see. "Uh, detective? We got--we got something up here!" one of the investigators called. You trudged towards the small hill, grimacing as the mud stained your brilliant white shoes. Spencer followed close behind you. You both peered to where the investigator pointed, and what you saw made your stomach churn. A face partially covered in mud. "The answer to your question, detective, is yes, this killer can't dismember these women." Spencer spoke. He turned to face the detective. "He cares for them."

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

You and Spencer returned to the break room, to see Brooke's mother on television. "I know Brooke is still alive. It's not too late for you to do the right thing. Let her come home to me. She turns twenty-seven on Wednesday." She said this with a smile on her face. She continued indistinctly as Rossi spoke. "Wish she would have waited until we had a chance to coach her.." Rossi muttered. JJ shrugged. "I dunno, she seems to be doing a pretty good job." "Good enough to make the UnSub think twice about killing Brooke." you spoke up. "If he hasn't already. Chances are, this is all too late." Rossi sighed.

"It's her daughter. She has to save hope, right?" you asked. "Hope's one thing. False hope is something else." Rossi answered. JJ looked at him. "I guess you've worked with psychics before?" she asked. Rossi nodded. "Yeah. Not by choice."

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

You and Spencer went to the local coroner's office, where the bodies were being held. "Annette Hagen, Erin Bonham, and Melissa St. Claire, all embalmed." the coroner stated. "That's the first three. That leaves the Lombardini girl still out there." you murmured. You looked at the coroner. "Did you figure out the cause of death?" you asked her. "Blood loss." she stated. "Blood loss?" Spencer repeated. "They were alive when they were embalmed?" She shrugged. "Looks that way." "Tox screen show significant levels of barbiturate." you murmured. "They were sedated, maybe unconscious.." Spencer muttered.

You glanced at the bodies, and you noticed something. "Hey, Spencer, look at this. They all have the same haircut." He looked at the bodies, and then back at the pictures he held in his hands. "These are recent photos, though. These two had much longer hair at the time of their abduction." "So, the UnSub cut it." you sighed. "There's something else he might have done." the coroner piped up. "Their ears have all been double-pierced." You moved a lock of one of the dead body's hair out of her ear, and she really did have her ears double-pierced. "Were they sexually assaulted?" you asked the coroner.

She sighed. "Not exactly. There was no tearing or bruising that would normally suggest it, but I did find trace amounts of semen." Spencer looked at her. "You're saying it might have been consensual?" "No. She's saying they were dead." you answered.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

You and Spencer went back to the police station to tell everyone what you found out. They wrote down the new information, and updated the board. JJ sighed, and rubbed her temples. "I spoke to the families. None of the victims had double-pierced ears at the time of their abduction." "Cutting hair and piercing ears.." Hotch mumbled. Rossi walked in the room. "He's changing them." he stated matter-of-factly. "Into what, though?" you asked. "Into who?" Rossi corrected. You sighed and stretched your sore legs. "The burial suggests an affection for his victims." you suggested.

"Which says that he might be remaking them into the image of a loved one." Hotch said thoughtfully. JJ was skimming through the newly-updated file. "The M.E. found high levels of barbiturate?" You nodded. "Yeah, why?" She gave a small shake of her head. "Just, uh, something the psychic said--that Brooke felt tired, heavy." Rossi's head snapped up. "Why are we talking about the psychic? It's a _scam _. These guys talk without saying anything and you're _falling for it _." JJ shrugged. "Well, he said that Brooke's alive, so I guess I just want to believe him."____

___ _

___"JJ, you know the profile." Hotch murmured. "A necrophiliac has no use for a live victim." Rossi stated, shaking his head. "You ready to give the profile?" Hotch inquired. While everyone was getting up, you noticed Rossi go into a corner, and call someone. Shortly after, he joined you._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'm open to comments and constructive criticism. The case will be continued in the next chapter!


	4. Profile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case is continued, they give the profile, and...they might catch the UnSub! Told through Spencer's eyes!

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

This case was actually turning out to be interesting. Not only that, but I feel like (Y/N) and I have been bonding. Is it just wishful thinking? I don't think it is. We have been partners throughout this investigation, and she's told me small details about herself. Maybe she's just making small talk, I'm not sure. But I won't give up. She told me that her birthday is in May, which is exciting, because it's April. Another thing, why is it raining in _April _?__ She also told me that she's a Nyctophobic, meaning that she has an extreme fear of the dark. It's not so bad when she's about to sleep, though.

I rose up from the seat, and walked to the front of the room, along with everyone else, to deliver the profile. I stood besides (Y/N), and gave her a comforting smile, which she returned, albeit even more bright, making my legs turn into jelly. Hotch was the first to speak. "By now, we know the DNA found on the victims did not match anyone in the system, so we're going to have to look beyond physical evidence to identify the killer." "Our UnSub is a white male in his mid-to late twenties, and he has money. He lives alone, in a large residence. There's enough space and ventilation to accommodate an embalming suite." Emily stated.

Hotch spoke again. "He's awkward with people, especially women. An inability to relate socially is common in homicidal necrophiles." (Y/N) spoke up. "Because of the alterations of the bodies, we believe the UnSub is attempting to recreate a woman he once loved." "Like, a girlfriend?" the detective asked. "Or a wife, a mother." Hotch answered. "Someone who left or died suddenly." "This projection of the loved one coupled with his need to preserve the victims through embalming is similar to the psychopathology of serial murderer Ed Gein." I stated. Was it silly of me to try to impress (Y/N) with my knowledge, or just plain stupid?

Either way, I continued. "Gein had an oedipal complex which developed in the years he nursed his paralyzed mother back from a stroke. After she died, his obsession compelled him to dig up corpses of women who resembled his mother. So persistent was his desire to resurrect his dead mother that he actually dressed in female suits fashioned from human skin. Eventually, Gein grew unhappy with the flesh of dead bodies, which had a tendency to dry and crack, so he shifted his focus to live victims, whose bodies he could better preserve." I realized that I was rambling, so I stopped.

Hotch spoke again. "The evolution from dead to live victims will also be mirrored in our UnSub's maturation." "We've put together a list of incident reports prior to 2006. You're gonna want to follow up on these." Emily began handing out packets. "Now, they are inappropriate postmortem conduct, cadaver theft, and graveyard disturbances." "60% of necrophiles work in the death business, so be sure to canvass local cemeteries, mortuaries, and morgues." (Y/N) stated. "And since we have the killer's DNA, we're gonna be sending you out with kits to swab potential suspects." Derek held up cotton swabs in vials.

"The odds of finding Brooke Lombardini alive are slim, but the quicker we identify the killer, the better her chances are." Hotch spoke. "For her sake, let's work fast." Everyone took that as a dismissal, so everyone stood up, and began heading out.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

We all went back to the station when in began to start pouring. I told everyone that a grave had been raided, but they must've seen that as a simple grave robbery. (Y/N) was investigating some pastor who was caught undressing a body, but Hotch found something interesting. He told us that there was an apprentice who put a wig on them, and the wig was short and blonde. He also did their make-up, and dressed them up. We got a name; Ivan Bakunas. Garcia found us an address, so Hotch, (Y/N) and I went to his address to ask him a couple of questions.

We got in a black SUV, Hotch driving, and (Y/N) and I sitting in the backseat. She stared idly outside the window, watching the rain fall, and she shivered ever so slightly. "Do you enjoy the rain?" I murmured, making an attempt at small-talk. She nodded, and continued to stare out of the window. _Okay..attempt failed._ We arrived at a small, gloomy-looking house. Hotch killed the engine, grabbed his umbrella. and exited the car. (Y/N) followed, and as she exited, she slipped and slided towards Hotch, trying her best not to topple over. I was the last one out, and we marched to the door.

We stopped in front of the doorway, and Hotch rung the doorbell. Not too long after, a timid-looking man opened the door, and gazed at us. "Ivan Bakunas?" Hotch inquired. The man nodded. "Yeah. Can I--can I help you?" "You could invite us inside. It's a little wet out here." Hotch replied. As if on cue, (Y/N) shivered again, her teeth chattering softly. The man threw a nervous glance upstairs. "Uh, I--I can't. Mother's sleeping. "We're investigating a series of murders in the area." I stated. "We believe the killer works in your field." Hotch added. The man looked down, and looked back up at us.

"Wow, jeez, you're kidding..Do I know him?" Ivan muttered. "Y-You might. His v-v-victims are just y-your type." (Y/N) commented, her chattering becoming more apparent. "B-B-Blonde hair, b-blue s-s-skin." The man seemed shocked at her words, then he began looking around wildly, giving him the appearance of prey being cornered by a predator. "You're suggesting I'm some kind of _murderer?_ " he demanded. "Then--Then you are way out of line." "So, you wouldn't object to giving us a sample of your DNA?" Hotch asked, shaking his head slightly. Ivan looked around again, as if searching for an escape route.

"I-I don't know. No." he responded. "We can get a warrant." I told him. He twitched, and looked around some more. "I think I've said all I'm gonna say." And with that, he slammed the door.

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Hotch, (Y/N) and I walked into Detective Fullwood's office, and dialed Garcia. "What's up, newbie?" she chirruped. "Did you find anything on Ivan Bakunas?" I asked her. "Nothing in juvey, but he was expelled from Evergreen State for assaulting his girlfriend." Garcia answered. "Sexual?" Hotch inquired. "He was slipping her tranquilizers and having sex with her while she slept." Even through the phone, I could see Garcia shudder. "That qualifies." (Y/N) muttered. "Between that and the wig, we should be able to persuade a judge." Detective Fullwood stated. Hotch's arms crossed. "Detective, I'm not gonna stand in your way if you want to serve a warrant on Bakunas, but I think you're wasting your time." "You're kidding, right?" Fullwood answered incredulously.

(Y/N) agreed. "We profiled a man of means. According to his tax records, Bakunas hasn't held down a job since he graduated college. He lives with his mother. Doesn't have a car.." "The embalming equipment, the drugs--that stuff's not cheap." Hotch finished. Fullwood shook his head. "Look, this guy likes to get it on with dead people. If that's not probable cause, _I don't know what is._ " Just then, JJ walked through the door. "Hotch, a 911 operator just got a distress call from someone claiming to be Brooke Lombardini." All at once, everyone exited the room in a hurry, and followed JJ to the break room.

"911, what's your emergency?" the 911 operator's voice drifted from the laptop. "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒˀ" a voice whispered. "Can you speak up, ma'am?" the 911 operator requested. "ᴺᵒ. ᴴᵉ'ˡˡ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ." the voice replied. "ᵀʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ᴮʳᵒᵒᵏᵉ ᴸᵒᵐᵇᵃʳᵈᶦⁿᶦ. ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ." the voice begged. I glanced up. Brooke's mother was listening intently, her eyes closed. "Where are you calling from, ma'am?" the operator inquired. "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵖʳᶦˢᵒⁿᵉʳ." the voice responded, not really giving an answer. "Okay, ma'am, can you look outside? Can you see a street name or an address?" the operator asked. Brooke's mother had tears slithering down her cheeks.

"ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ...ᴵ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ..." the voice whispered. "ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᶦˡˡ ᵐᵉ." "Ma'am?" In the background, you could hear a door open and close. "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ." the voice begged again. You could hear footsteps running towards her. "No--" And then, the telephone disconnected. JJ turned off the audio. Brooke's mother wiped her wet cheeks. "That's her."she sniffled. "That's Brooke." Hotch looked at her. "You're certain?" "She's barely audible." Rossi commented. "Any surveillance expert will tell you it's almost impossible to identify a whisper." JJ looked up at Rossi. "You think I don't know my own daughter's _voice?_ " she asked incredulously.

"Why would someone who was not Brooke call 911 and say they were?" Fullwood questioned. "Sometimes, people get off injecting themselves into the story." Rossi replied. "You've been on TV now, and that could bring out a lot of sick individuals." "Stanley said she was _alive_." Brooke's mother said firmly. "This _proves_ it." "Stanley Usher has a vested interest in telling you that your daughter is alive." Rossi said calmly. "And do you have a _vested interest_ in telling me she's not?" she quipped. "He has a record, ma'am." Rossi answered. "I had a colleague look into it." He handed Brooke's mother a folder, containing Stanley Usher's mugshots.

"Usher was charged with fraud in Oregon...before he pulled up stakes and moved here." Brooke's mother looked inside of the folder. She looked at Rossi, as if wanting to say something, but instead, she walked out of the room. However, she looked back when she reached the doorway. "I need my baby to be _alive_." she whimpered. She strode out of the room, tears cascading down her cheeks. JJ looked at Rossi. 

"All she has right now is hope." JJ stood up. "Why would you take that from her?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! The case will be continued in the next chapter. I have a really good idea for a chapter on 4/20/20 c;


	5. Who's Abby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case of the abductions continue. Told through your eyes. Maybe catch the UnSub?

_**Your P.O.V.** _

After listening to the audio, everyone walked out of Detective Fullwood's office, going out and trying to get new leads. Your stomach growled softly, and you barely remembered that you hadn't eaten on the plane. You checked the time. 6:30. You hadn't eaten for 4 hours. You trotted over to the break room, and looked over their vending machine. Something caught your eye. Some regular Cheez-Its. You looked at the price. Only 50 cents? You punched in the number, and inserted your coins. Someone walked in the break room. You thought it was Spencer, but when you looked, it was just an officer.

He looked at you, as if wanting to say something. You just kept quiet and concentrated on your Cheez-Its. They finally fell, so you bent over and grabbed them. The officer then tried to approach you, but at the same time, Spencer walked through the doorway. "Hey, (Y/N)?" he called. Your head snapped up, and you straightened up, holding your tiny bag of snacks. He smiled. "Come. Emily's got some new info. He led you to a small area where JJ, Derek, and Rossi were waiting. Emily and Hotch came through the door. "911 call came from a disposable cell." Emily stated. "No I.D., but they traced it to the nearest tower." she handed everyone a sheet of paper.

"That narrows it down to a 20-mile radius here, just southeast of Seattle." "That's a densely populated area." Hotch commented. "Were they able to triangulate?" "Garcia tried to ping the phone, but it was already dead." Emily responded. "The UnSub probably turned it off when he found her with it." Derek stared at the whiteboard, looking at the information we recorded. "You mean _if_ he found her." Rossi corrected. "Dave, I agree with you about psychics, but the fact is Sandra Lombardini positively identified her daughter's voice. We have to assume that call was genuine." Hotch chided. Rossi nodded slightly.

"So, what do we think?" Hotch asked you and Spencer. "Why is the UnSub keeping Brooke alive? And how long do we think she has until he kills her?" "Maybe he needs them alive to effect their transformation." I suggested. "The change in the hair, the make-up, piercing the ears--that would only take a few hours." Spencer added. "He's had her for almost five days." Rossi acknowledged. "Okay, so maybe it's about something more than just appearance." Emily shrugged. "Maybe it's something deeper." "On the phone, she made it sound like she was being locked up,and she sounded drugged." Spencer indicated. "These are control mechanisms used in cases of sexual slavery, mind control--" "It's brainwashing." Derek finished. "So he's trying to break her down, make her surrender her identity." Hotch assumed. "That's what he's waiting for." Rossi agreed.

"That's the version of them he wants to hold onto." "So the longer she holds out, the longer she stays alive." you whispered. "And as soon as she accepts her new role, her fate is sealed." Hotch said grimly.

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"Okay. Thank you." Emily murmured into her phone. She looked up at us. "That was the lab with the DNA results on those swabs." "No matches?" Rossi asked. "No. Our guy's still out there." Emily confirmed. You took a surprisingly loud bite out of your Cheez-It, and everyone looked at you. " _What?_ I'm starving." you pouted. Slight chuckles erupted. Something caught Rossi's eye. "What's he doing here?" he demanded. You looked, and you saw Stanley Usher, the "psychic," lead by Detective Fullwood. Rossi stormed towards them. "Detective, a word." he said firmly. Once Rossi and Fullwood were out of Stanley's earshot, Rossi began talking.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Rossi challenged. The detective sighed. "Can't afford to let my ego get in the way on this one. Take all the help I can get." "Look, I'm happy to be wrong about Brooke. Hell, I'm _praying_ I am. But I'm not wrong about this guy." Rossi hissed. JJ stood up, and went to go greet Stanley. "Mr. Usher, good to see you again." she smiled and shook his hand. "And you." he replied. His hand lingered on hers. _Okay...that's kinda freaky._ "Um..can I help you with something?" JJ asked politely. "I'm spoken for." Usher replied, gesturing with his chin towards Fullwood.

"Oh." JJ chuckled. "Hm." "This way." Fullwood motioned for Usher to follow him. Just as JJ was walking away. Usher called out for her. "Ma'am?" he called. JJ turned around. Usher was smiling, and cradled his arms, as if he were carrying a baby. "Congratulations." he gestured towards her ring, and walked away. That was _really_ freaky. JJ walked back towards us, a dazed look on her face, and she subconsciously fiddled with her ring.

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We walked into the interrogation room, where Ivan Bakunas was being held. "So, you went ahead and arrested him." Hotch said, his voice a deadly calm. "He was trying to cross the border into Vancouver." Fullwood said accusingly. "Are you gonna charge him?" you asked. "If he confesses, junior." he replied. You scowled at the nickname, eating another Cheez-It, pretending it was his head. "Failing that, we'll hold him so he can't skip town while we're waiting for his DNA results." Fullwood continued. "I'll let the lab know a priority sample's coming." JJ murmured as she pulled out her phone. 

"Well, what did he get off of the wig, detective?" Rossi asked. "Enough to know that's one sick puppy in there." Fullwood snarled. He walked into the interrogation room, Emily following behind him, and plopped the wig in front of Bakunas. His breath hitched. "Why don't you tell me about that?" Fullwood questioned. "Looks like a wig." Bakunas said blankly, not really looking at it. "That is a magic wig." Emily contradicted. "It changes the identity of the dead." "What?" Bakunas said, confused. "Well, I thought that's why you were putting it on the bodies at the morgue." Emily said coolly. "It makes the fantasy more real." Ivan looked at her, shook his head slightly, and looked away.

"Who were you trying to turn them into?" Emily inquired. "I have worked some sick cases," Fullwood stated. "Rapists, pedarasts..." "I hope you're not _grouping_ me with those people." Bakunas hissed. "You may be the sickest of them all." Fullwood spat. "Well, sick or no, many would argue it's a victimless crime." Bakunas said bluntly. "What's victimless about Lynnette Hagen?" Emily threw a few photos in front of Bakunas. "Who?" Bakunas asked. When he looked at the photos, he seemed disgusted, and looked away. "Or Melissa St. Claire?" "I don't know these women, okay?" Bakunas snapped.

"You have the wrong.." He seemed to struggle for the right word. "The wrong necrophile?" Fullwood finished. "What? You think I'm the only guy in town who likes to crack open a cold one?" Bakunas demanded. You saw Spencer shoot you an apprehensive look, which you returned. Fullwood leaned in front of Bakunas, dangerously close. "Where is Brooke Lombardini?" he said coldly. "I don't know who that is." Bakunas' voice trembled, not meeting Fullwood's gaze. "I don't kill people." Fullwood straightened up. "These profilers say our killer is trying to turn the girls into a loved one." Fullwood said calmly.

"Like a wife, or a mother. Is your mother a blonde, Ivan?" Fullwood asked. I nearly gagged. "That's disgusting. The wig ins't even the important part." Bakunas spat. "For me, it's--it's the shoes." he admitted sheepishly. "So you put shoes on them, too?" Emily asked. "They're a very special pair." Bakunas confirmed. "What's special about them?" Emily inquired. "The woman who walked in them." Bakunas said blankly. "Sunny Raines." "The weather girl?" Fullwood asked incredulously. "She was a local celebrity killed in a car accident a couple years ago." Fullwood explained to Emily.

"A friend of mine was working when she came in on the slab." Bakunas began. "He knew I was a fan." "Oh, so...he stole her shoes for you." Emily simplified. "The wig, it just completed the look, but the shoes...genuine article." he smiled. "That's what makes it real. "Genuine article..." Spencer muttered, and walked out of the room, clearly in a rush. You followed closely behind. "He sped into the break room, and dug in his satchel. He got out a tiny notebook, and began flipping through it. "Spencer?" you called out cautiously. "I took a report of a grave robbery, remember?" he told you excitedly. 

"I thought you said it was just a simple theft." Derek chided. "Yeah, but listen to what was taken." Spencer looked at you then. "A dress, a pair of diamond earrings, and a pair of pearl earrings." You were silent for a moment, processing this information. You suddenly looked back at him. "Two pairs.." "If our UnSub is like Bakunas, then he needs the genuine articles from the true object of his affection to complete the fantasy." Hotch said thoughtfully. Spencer nodded quickly. "Exactly. This grave could belong to that woman. Um..let's see.." Spencer muttered. "Abigail Hansen."

I dialed Garcia's number on the break room telephone. "What up, newbster?" Garcia said casually. You smiled. "Garcia, I need you to run a name for me; Abigail Hansen." "Abigail Hansen..." Garcia murmured. "Got it! Okay, so I got her obit from _The Olympian_. Abigail Reina Hansen died suddenly at 26 from myocarditis, a heart defect. Sending her passport photo now." Our phones chimed. You took out your phone, and opened the attachment that Garcia sent you. "Well, she certainly looks the part." Derek murmured. Sure enough, she did have cropped blonde hair, blue eyes, and double-pierced ears, one pair of pearl earrings, the other diamond.

"Garcia, what else can you tell us about her?" Hotch asked. "I can tell you that she was born in Amsterdam, she never married, and her employment records show her working for Patrick and Leona Gless from 1985 until her death in 1992." "Can you get us an address for the Gless family?" Hotch inquired. "They might be the only ones who can tell us who Abigail was." Hotch murmured. "Yeah.." everyone agreed. "Reid, (Y/L/N), you'll go and speak to the Gless family?" Hotch questioned. Spencer jumped up, enthusiastic. "Of course, sir." "Alright. Get going."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! When will they catch the UnSub, amirite? They'll probably catch him in the next chapter. I make no promises!


	6. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Spencer go to interrogate the Gless family, the only people who could tell you who Abigail was before she died, and if they might know the UnSub. Told through Spencer's eyes.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

This UnSub is definitely more cunning than we thought. We were running everywhere. If the Gless family didn't know anyone who might have known Abigail, we'd be fresh out of leads. On the bright side, though, I'd be spending more time with (Y/N), and it stopped raining. However, it was pretty dark outside. It was already 7:00 exactly. I wonder if we'd be able to solve this case in a single day. I opened the passenger door for (Y/N), but she hesitated. "Sorry, Spence, I should have told you. I get carsick pretty easily, and it worsens when I sit in the front. Usually, I just sit in the back and stare out the window. Again, I'm sorry."

Oh. Well, that explains her just staring out the window. I closed the passenger door casually, and instead, opened the door for the backseat. She smiled, and murmured a thank-you. I felt like her perfect, gleaming white teeth actually radiated light in the darkness. She climbed in, and I closed the door behind her gently. I jogged over to the driver's side, careful not to slip in any puddles. I got in, started the engine, and we drove in silence towards the Gless' house. It took about 5 minutes. We parked next to the sidewalk, and I killed the engine. I got out in a hurry, and before (Y/N) could get out, I opened the door for her, and held out my hand for her support.

She beamed dazzlingly, making my head spin. She laid her small hand on top of mine, and slid out of the car, her skirt sliding up. My breath hitched, and I looked the other way as she adjusted it. She murmured another 'thank you' as we both walked towards the Gless' family house. "Did Garcia say what Mr. Gless does for a living?" I asked her, attempting at small-talk. "Failed artist." she replied. "Guess that's what they call "failing up."" I cringed at my horrible joke, but to my surprise, she grinned. "Or marrying well." We walked up towards the huge house, and rang the doorbell.

A tall woman with short blonde hair answered. "Can I help you?" she asked, a tinge of superiority staining her voice. "Mrs. Gless? Hi, I'm Dr.(Y/N)(Y/L/N), this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're with the FBI." (Y/N) flashed her credentials, as did I. the superiority evaporated. "Oh!" she squeaked. "What can I do for you two?" "We would like to ask you some questions about Abigail Hansen, if you don't mind." I spoke. She nodded. "Of course, of course. Come in." She motioned us inside, and we sat down on the couch. Every inch of the home was elegantly furnished. A young maid appeared, and poured us some tea. She smiled warmly at me, which I returned halfheartedly.

"I think about Abigail from time to time. She was such a nice girl." Mrs. Gless sighed. "She was like one of the family." Mr. Gless remarked. "Was that why you paid for the funeral?" I asked them. Mrs. Gless sighed. "She didn't have anyone else." "She was from Denmark." Mr. Gless said matter-of-factly. "Holland, dear." Mrs. Gless said firmly. "What kind of work did she do for you?" (Y/N) questioned. "She was the au pair. And there was some cooking and cleaning." Mrs. Gless answered. "She took care of the children?" I assumed. "Just the one--our son Roderick." Mrs. Gless nodded. "Here." Mr. Gless rose from the couch, and took a picture out of a glass cabinet.

"This is the two of them together." He bent over to show (Y/N), and I had to practically shift to see the photo. "They were close. She basically raised the boy." Mrs. Gless lamented. "Well, I wouldn't go quite that far." Mr. Gless frowned, shaking his head. "No? What would you call it?" Mrs. Gless quipped. He remained silent while (Y/N) and I exchanged looks. "Patrick likes to think he was a good father." Mrs. Gless commented. "So..." (Y/N) said awkwardly. "Why do you want to know about Abigail?" Mr. Gless suddenly demanded. "We believe that there may be a connection to some recent murders." I told them.

Mr and Mrs. Gless exchanged looks. "Someone she knew." I added. "How old was your son when Abigail died?" (Y/N) asked. "Nine." Mr. Gless answered, his voice wavering. "We weren't here when it happened. We were on a cruise." "But Roderick was here with Abigail?" I inquired. "When we returned, we knew something was wrong. The smell." Mrs. Gless shuddered. "They were on his room on the floor." "He was...curled up next to her, with her arms around him. It's how he got to sleep." Mr. Gless finished. "How long had she been dead?" (Y/N) asked softly.

"The coroner said 2, maybe 3 days. I didn't have the stomach for the details." Mrs. Gless exhaled. "We'd like to speak to Roderick." I said. "Well, if I knew where he was, I'd be happy to tell you, but we haven't spoken for years." Mrs. Gless shrugged. "When he turned 21, he dropped out of medical school, liquidated his trust fund." Mr. Gless explained. "We knew he was troubled, but I had no idea he would ever hurt someone." Mrs. Gless' voice trembled. "They don't know for sure that he's--" Mr. Gless snapped, but instantly fell quiet. "Y-You don't know for sure." Mr. Gless said again, softer.

"When was your last communication?" (Y/N) questioned. "We got a letter about a year ago." Mrs. Gless stated, and she rose from the couch towards a small cabinet, where she withdrew the letter. She handed it to (Y/N). "Can we borrow this?" (Y/N) asked. "You can have it." Mrs. Gless said bluntly. "And while you're at it,take this, too." She gave her the photo of Roderick and Abigail.

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"It's exactly how they said. Roderick's trust was emptied in March of '04. Half a million bucks." Garcia stated jealously. "Where is he now?" (Y/N) asked. "The thing is, he's gotta be using straight cash, 'cause there is no paper trail on him for the last 4 years. Nothing from the I.R.S., from the DMV. There's no property or utilities in his name." Garcia sighed. 'You can't find him?" (Y/N) asked, feigning shock. "Sorry." Garcia murmured. "You know, half a million isn't what is used to be. And the way that this UnSub is accustomed to living, after 4 years he would need to supplement his income." Derek suggested. "Anything between the lines, Spence?" You trotted over to where Spencer was reading the letter that Roderick sent his parents.

"Nothing that points to a specific location. He's basically saying he's happy. That should be enough for her. It's essentially a goodbye letter." Spencer replied. "Enough for her?" Derek repeated. "Um...it's only addressed to Leona." Spencer shrugged. "Why not his dad?" Derek questioned. "Maybe they didn't get along." JJ suggested. "No that's not right.." Rossi muttered. "Garcia, I need you to check something else." and with that, Rossi walked away, talking indistinctly. "So basically, we got nothing." Derek sighed. Spencer nodded. JJ took the envelope from Spencer, as you could see a light bulb going off in her head.

She walked off, but shortly returned with Stanley Usher. She gave him the envelope. He held it in his hands, and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a while. Outside, it had begun to rain again. After what had to be 5 minutes, he opened his eyes slowly, and looked at JJ. "Water." he said simply.

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"Water?" Hotch repeated. "That's what he said. Roderick is near water." JJ confirmed. "That's not very specific. The Earth is two-thirds water." I piped up. "He specified a rocky shoreline you could see." JJ responded. "JJ, this man is not exactly a reliable source of information." Hotch sighed. "Okay, this photo from the Gless house--" she trotted over, and took the photo that Spencer and I had acquired. "It was taken at their house on Mercer Island." "Waterfront property." Fullwood stated. "No one's lived there for 10 years. It's abandoned, I checked. This could be where he's holding Brooke." JJ smiled, exuberant with her discovery.

Just then, Rossi came striding towards us. "He's sending him money." he stated. "What's that?" Hotch asked. "Roderick's dad. It's the reason why Rodrick never said goodbye to him in the letter. They never lost contact. That supplemental income you were talking about?" Rossi gestured towards Derek. "This is it. Every 6 months, a $50,000 wire." "This is Western Union, though. There's no way to tell who's on the receiving end." JJ contradicted. "I'm telling you, he's sending it to Roderick." "If you'd seen his father, you'd know." you piped up. "it's true. Deep down, he was very guilty about neglecting him." Spencer agreed. "He's submissive in the marriage. He's probably doing it behind her back." you concluded.

"You don't think his dad knew?" Derek asked. "No. No, I think he's a sad man trying to buy his kid's love." Rossi responded. Fullwood stood up, and pointed to where the 911 call had pinged. "This is where Brooke's 911 call originated. The Western Union is within the circle. Mercer Island isn't. Everyone looked at each other.

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Hotch had gotten us an address. The rain was coming down so hard, it was like buckets of water were being poured on us. We sped towards the address that Mr. Gless provided for us. One by one, we all went inside of the building, our guns pointed in the darkness. As we were getting farther inside of the building, a sudden, dreaded stench filled my nose, and I nearly retched. "They're definitely in there." (Y/N) muttered. And sure enough, they were. Roderick was preparing to cut into Brooke, but he hesitated. One by one, we all silently entered the room, and Hotch and Rossi grabbed Roderick's arms, and dragged him away.

"Abby!" Roderick kept yelling. Paramedics were on the scene in an instant. "She's been given barbiturate." (Y/N) told them. They nodded, and injected her with something that woke her up. She looked around wildly. "Brooke? Brooke, it's alright, you're safe." (Y/N) murmured, kneeling in front of her. She let out a gasp, and began to sob into her chest. She cradled her head, and rubbed her back soothingly before the paramedics took her away. "Some psychic this guy is." Rossi muttered. "This is as far from a rocky shoreline as you can get." Hotch ripped off some blue wrapping paper that was covering the windows.

"Dave." Hotch called. Rossi walked towards the windows, and so did I. There, on the opposite wall, was a painting of a lighthouse on a rocky shoreline. We exited the building, and showed Brooke's mother were Brooke was. She ran towards her daughter, and began to sob. She grabbed Brooke's hand and held it tightly. "Brooke, oh, honey, it's okay. I'm here." Brooke's mother smiled. Brooke looked at her distantly. "Brooke..." she murmured her own name. 

"Uh, hey, (Y/N)!" I called after her as she walked towards one of the black SUVs. She turned around. Even in the rain, she looked like an angel. She definitely gave of a glow because everything seemed a little bit brighter when she walked towards me. "What's up?" she asked, her dimples showing as she spoke. I've never really noticed how full her lips were...

"Spencer?" she said again. I snapped out of it, and cleared my throat awkwardly. "Erm...uh..yeah..so, H-Hotch wants to take you out--I mean--Hotch wants to t-take the _team_ o-out, and I was wondering if...if you w-wanted to go celebrate with us?" I was in a rush to get my words out. She looked at me for a moment, confused. When she finally understood, she gave me such a beautiful and radiant smile that I thought that I was going to faint. "Of course! I'd love to go celebrate with you." I felt relief wash over me, and most of all, joy. Even though it was so cold outside, I felt warm and fuzzy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally caught Roderick Gless! Now it's time to celebrate! They'll get their party on in the next chapter!


	7. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After solving a frustrating case, Hotch takes the team out to a suite in Olympia, Washington to celebrate. Naturally, you get wasted, and you do some random shit. Spencer has to take care of you. Told through your eyes.

_**Your P.O.V.** _

We had solved the case of the abductions in one day. To be honest you were pretty exhausted, but you really wanted to party it out with your team. You guys had driven to the Hampton Inn & Suites in Olympia. You had driven with Rossi and Spencer. It was a pretty quiet ride, other than the fact that Spencer was rambling about something. You thought is was pretty cute when Spencer rambled, but other people usually found it annoying. We stopped in front of the gargantuan hotel, and before you could get out, Spencer had jogged out again to open the door for you. You gave him a sweet smile, took his hand, and slipped out.

Spencer was always the gentleman. He'd make a good boyfriend one day. You thought that Spencer was pretty cute, but there was a strict "No Fraternization" policy that you had agreed to. The black SUVs pulled into the parking lot, so you all went inside. Everyone would get their own rooms, so you wouldn't have to share it with anyone, which you thought was good, because you liked your privacy. You all walked inside, clutching your go-bags, and Hotch checked you guys into your rooms. You received room 202 on the 3rd floor. "Hey, (Y/N)! Make sure to come downstairs with us to party!" Penelope called as you went to the elevator.

You smiled and waved to show that you understood, and got into the elevator. However, before the elevator door closed, JJ and Emily hopped in. They received room 204 and 201. JJ smiled at you, and you returned the smile politely. You all stood in silence as the elevator rose up. Emily broke the silence a few seconds later. "Okay, (Y/N), I _have_ to ask; Is there something going on between you and Spencer?" she giggled, looking at you expectantly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you stared at her in bewilderment. "No! Nothing is going on between Spencer and I! It's against the rules!" you exclaimed, waving your hands.

She looked at you, and so did JJ. "Come on, (Y/N). I see the way he looks at you." JJ smirked. You flushed even deeper. "H-How do you mean?" you asked, truly curious. JJ sighed, shaking her head. "He's always doing little things for you, and do you see the way he perks up when he's assigned cases with you?" Emily smiled smugly. You thought about this for a moment. "He--He's just being polite!" you responded defiantly. JJ huffed and looked away, and Emily looked like she wanted to say something else, but just then, the elevator stopped, and you practically ran into your dorm before anyone else could say anything.

You ran into your suite, and locked the door behind you. You sighed, and slumped against the door. _Did Spencer really like you..?_ _If he did, wouldn't he get fired?_ You contemplated this for a moment. You found yourself thinking about what it would be like to have Spencer as a boyfriend. _Big spoon, little spoon, carrying, forehead kisses..._ You shook your head vigorously. No! That's against the rules! You sighed, and glanced at the clock. Holy crap, it's already 9:19? You got up from the door, and began to look around in your go-bag. You packed for 15 days, 5 work, 5 casual, and 5 dressy.

You chose an oversized white t-shirt, a tight black skirt, fishnet stockings, and Victorian boots. You tucked your shirt inside of your skirt. You looked in the mirror, and figured that something was missing. You reached back into your go-bag, and got a lace choker. You adjusted your glasses, and looked back inside of the mirror. You looked pretty great. You thought that you would look exhausted after your first case, but you actually looked amazing. You reached back inside of your go-bag, and pulled out an oversized gray plaid shirt, but didn't button in up. You decided to use it as a coat.

You went into the bathroom, and applied a little bit of lip gloss and mascara. Your cheeks were still slightly red, but you closed your eyes, and calmed down. When you re-opened them, they weren't as red. Someone knocked at the door. You walked over, and peered into the peephole. Penelope gazed back at you, and you could tell she was smiling. "(Y/N)~! Open up~" she sang. You did as she said. Her smile grew wider. "Come on! You were taking forever, so I decided to check on you! You look amazing!" she gushed. You smiled at her. "Aw, thanks, Penny." She gasped and smiled at your nickname for her.

"Oh my God, I love that!" she giggled. She grabbed your hand, and led you towards the elevator. "Come on, (Y/N)! Hurry! Everyone is already down there!" She shoved you inside, and literally punched the "basement" button. She looked like she was tap-dancing because she couldn't hold still. She looked over you, and smirked. "Wait 'till Spencer sees you." she laughed. Your cheeks flushed again. "Spencer and I are just friends." you told her calmly. She snorted. "Uh-huh. Sure." she laughed some more, and the elevator stopped with a *ding.*

You were met with the sight of dancing bodies, flashing lights, and bars. Upbeat dance music was playing over the chatter of the people. You immediately spotted your team, so you walked over to them, and sat in the bar-stool next to Spencer. He seemed...flustered...by your presence. "H-Hey, (Y/N)! You look..great!" he beamed. You laughed slightly. "Thanks, Spence." Penelope sat next to JJ, Emily sat next to Derek, and Hotch sat next to Rossi. The bartender gave you a Blue Lagoon. You looked up at him. "Erm..I didn't order anything yet.." you said awkwardly.

The bartender pointed to a guy with taupe-brown hair that was slicked back, and grey eyes. He smirked and waved. You gave him an awkward smile and took a sip of the drink. "So, (Y/N), did you ever have a boyfriend?" Emily asked. Wow...that drink was good! You nodded, taking another swig of the drink. "Yeah. It didn't end well." You grimaced at the memory of your abusive ex. Emily took the hint, and didn't mention it further. I chugged the remains of the drink, but you felt a hand on your arm. "(Y/N), slow down." Spencer murmured. You pouted. "Aw, let me be, Spence!" 

You raised your hand for the bartender. "Hey, buddy, get a round of Bazooka Joe shots for me and my ladies!" Penelope, JJ, and Emily all squealed and whooped. He set them down. "One...two... _three_!" On three, you threw your head back and gulped the strong alcohol. You shuddered, and whooped. As did the girls. "Another round!" you shouted to the bartender. "(Y/N), I really think you should stop.." Spencer sighed. "Oh, shut up, dad! Go hang out with the boys!" you slurred. You get drunk pretty easily. He sighed, and rose from the stool. You immediately felt bad, but you shrugged it off.

The man who bought you the drink winked at you. You ignored him, and took another shot. Emily held up a finger. "Hold on, I'll be right back!" she giggled. She got up, and walked to where the man sat. She was talking to him for a moment, then led him to where you, JJ, and Penelope sat. "Everyone, this is Brad! He's a real FBI agent in Quantico!" she winked at you guys, and you all immediately realized what she was doing. "Really?" Penelope inquired, her brown eyes large. "No way!" JJ exclaimed. "That's so exciting! What's it like working in Quantico?" you gushed.

"It's..uh..quite impressive." Brad answered, smirking. "What department are you in?" JJ questions. Brad cleared his throat. "That's..classified." he responds. "It must be really tough, keeping all those secrets." you comment, downing another shot. Brad shrugged. "You know, it's a skill like anything else. Carpenters are good at building and measuring. The FBI is good at keeping secrets and kicking criminal ass!" Brad whooped, and so did you girls. "Well, somebody's gotta do it." Emily giggled. "Do you carry your badge and gun with you, too?" you inquired. "Affirmative." Brad grinned.

"Can we see it?" you ask sweetly. "Er..what do you want to see?" Brad replied. "Your badge, silly!" Penelope laughed. "Sorry, that's..." Brad trailed off. You all watched him intently, waiting for him to finish. "Classified." he finished. "Tell me, Brad.." you got up from your stool and gazed at him, a smirk playing on your lips. "Does it look anything like this?" you pulled out your credentials, and showed it to him. "Or this?" Emily showed hers off too. "Or this?" JJ showed hers off as well. "Or maybe this?" Penelope showed hers off. Brad looked at you all blankly. "Impersonating an officer is a federal crime, Brad." you whispered. 

Before you could say anything else, he practically ran off. You all laughed, and ordered another round of shots. Rossi, Hotch, Derek, and Spencer came back to sit with you guys after your encounter with Brad. They misread the reason why you flashed your credentials, so they went to sit with you.

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"Hey, Hotch.." you giggled, and motioned for your boss to lean in. He looked at you uncertainly. " _I have a secret~_ " you said in a sing-song voice. "Don't tell my boss that I've been drinking, okay?" you giggled again. He looked at you blankly, not sure what to say. "O...kay.." he said awkwardly. You motioned for Penelope, JJ, and Emily to follow you out on the dance floor. After a few minutes of hardcore dancing, you stumbled back to the bar, clutching a glow-stick. You saw Spencer sitting by himself, watching everything vacantly, and sipping a Sprite. You stumbled over towards him.

"Hey, Spence!" you slurred. He gazed at you, and looked at your rosy cheeks. "(Y/N)..are you...drunk?" he asked uncertainly. "Maybe a little~" you giggled. "But fuck it all. I HAVE A GLOW-STICK." you held up your glow-stick happily. While holding it up, you hit your wrist on the edge of the table. "Aw, crap. I hit my arm ankle." you whined. Spencer looked at you blankly. "You mean..your wrist?" he laughed softly. "Wrist..." you murmured. "What an odd word." You then got a really bizarre idea. "Hey, Spencer! You know what'd be fun?" you giggled, and hiccuped. He looked at you. "What?" he answered.

"What if...we hold a skinny-dipping party in the pool?!" you exclaimed happily. He didn't respond at first. "(Y/N)..you're too drunk. Let's go to your suite and call it a night, okay?" he murmured gently. You pouted, but you were feeling pretty sleepy. You looked for JJ, Penelope, and Emily, but they were still on the dance floor. Spencer was talking indistinctly to Rossi. Rossi nodded, and Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist. "Come on, let's go." He led you to the elevator, and pressed the 3rd floor button. You felt the elevator shift underneath you, and you gasped.

Spencer's arm tightened around your waist. "Hey, Spencer? W-What's this magic box called?" you slurred. He chuckled. "An elevator. Did you know that the electric elevator was invented in 1887 and patented by Alexander Miles? However, one had been built by the German inventor Werner von Siemens in 1880. Otis' safety hoist wasn't the end of safety innovation, either. These days, it's virtually impossible for an elevator to plummet and kill passengers." he rambled. he stopped when you were staring at him, wide-eyed. "You're so smart. You're like a sexy Albert Einstein." you gushed.

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. The elevator *dinged*, and Spencer led you to his room. Spencer slid the card, and the door beeped and opened. You looked around his room. "This is--This is your room?" you slurred. Spencer smiled and nodded. You felt your stomach gurgle. "Oh, crap." you looked at Spencer with wide eyes, and you rushed to the bathroom, where you threw up. Spencer followed you, and held your hair up so it didn't get in the way. "Spencer, get out." you groaned. "I don't want you to see me like this." You heard him chuckle softly. "It's alright, (Y/N). This is what friends are for, right?"

You sighed, and retched once more. "Spencer, go to my room, and get me some clothes, please?" you motioned to grab your card out of your pocket, but it wasn't there. You moaned. "What is it?" Spencer asked gently. "My card isn't in my pocket!" you whined. Spencer smiled lightly. "It's fine, I'll lend you a shirt." He exited the bathroom, and presumably, went to go get a shirt. He was back in a little bit, holding up a large, white, long-sleeved shirt. He waited patiently while you flushed the toilet, and rinsed your mouth. You began to take off your sweater, and you began to take off your skirt.

"(Y/N)!" Spencer squeaked, covering his eyes. You realized what you were doing. "Whooooops.." you giggled. "Sorry, Spence." Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and strode out of the bathroom, his cheeks crimson. You took off your clothes, and donned Spencer's shirt. It was so large, it reached the top of your knees. The sleeves went way past your baby arms. They flopped when you flapped your arms, which made you giggle. While you took off your skirt, something fell out. Your card. You shrugged to yourself, and put the card in your bra.

You scooped up your clothes, and walked out of the bathroom. Spencer was waiting patiently, lounging on his bed and watching "Star Wars: The Last Jedi." You recognized the movie, and squealed happily. Spencer jumped, and looked at you. "Oh, you're done?" he murmured. You flopped on the bed next to him, and snuggled up. "I love this move!" you said happily. "Y-You do?" Spencer asked, smiling. You nodded excitedly. About thirty minutes into the movie, you felt yourself doze off. Your head fell on Spencer's shoulders as you blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I wonder how people will react when they see you walking out of Spencer's room with his shirt on...


	8. Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up with a throbbing headache, and you smell like Spencer. Your co-workers ask what happened, but when you tell them the truth, they don't buy it. You receive a new case about a copycat serial killer recreating murder techniques used by famous killers in the past. Told through Spencer's eyes.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

I felt a cold wind blow through the suite as I woke up from my slumber. I know that I said this yesterday, but that was actually the best snooze that I've ever had. Even though I said that yesterday, I still had the occasional nightmare, and the tossing and turning. Today, I had a peaceful sleep, with my dreams filled with roses, rose quartz, and, surprisingly, pink sea salt. Sometimes, a lily of the valley would pop up in my dreams, and I wondered why. When I woke up, I instantly knew why. Last night, (Y/N) was so drunk, she couldn't even remember what her wrist was, so she called it an, "arm ankle."

It was honestly adorable, until she tried to undress in front of me. I remember giving her my shirt, which was _super_ long on her. I know that I shouldn't be feeling these things for her, but she's basically me if I was a girl. I put her glasses on the bedside table next to me, and...I remember watching Star Wars. She fell asleep on my shoulder...and I blacked out. When I woke up, my face was pressed in her silky hair, which smelled like all of the scents that occupied my dreams. She was sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling. _Why am I even looKING AT HER CHEST?!_ I took a deep, shaky breath, and made my eyes focus on her face.

Even when she was asleep, she still had the same effect on me when she was awake. My stomach would erupt with butterflies, my cheeks would flush, and I would subconsciously smile. Sometimes, I would even tremble at the slightest contact, and my heart would accelerate. I knew what these symptoms were. _I was...falling in love_. But it's too early to tell, right? Maybe it's just puppy love. I felt my lips form into a soft smile as I studied her features. Almost as if she knew I was watching her, she let out a soft groan, and shifted herself closer to me, her face nuzzling my neck.

My breathing kicked up a notch. She let out another noise, and shifted herself again, but this time, moving further away. Her green eyes slowly opened, and met mine. She blinked a couple of times, confused, and her eyes widened. "Spencer?" she breathed. "Good morning?" I said awkwardly. She looked around. "This...this isn't my room.." she said slowly. She looked down at her clothes, and gasped. "Is..Is this your shirt?" she demanded. I was about to explain everything, but she gasped again, and clutched her forehead. "Oh, God.." she muttered. She looked at me. "Did I do anything stupid last night?" she sighed softly.

I chuckled and shook my head. "No. I stopped you before you could do anything else. I took you in here, where you threw up, and you couldn't find your card, so I lent you my shirt." I explained. She absorbed this information, and sighed, relieved. Her sweet breath blew into my face, making my head whirl. Everything about her instantly drew you in. She slowly sat up, inhaled sharply, and laid back down. "I found my card when I was changing." she murmured, reaching into my shirt and pulling out her card. "Do you have any aspirin?" she asked. I got up, my head slightly throbbing, and looked into my go-bag.

I took out a bottle of pills, and handed it to her, along with a glass of water. She took one out, threw her head back, and drank the water. She sighed, and handed me the empty glass and the bottle, which I put away. She got up slowly, and walked over to me. I wasn't sure what she was going to do, until she wrapped her small arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. "Thank you.." she mumbled. My heart accelerated, and I could feel the heat wash over my cheeks. I vaguely wondered if she could hear my loud heartbeat. I awkwardly wrapped my long arms around her back.

I cleared my throat, and licked my suddenly dry lips. "You're welcome." I responded softly. I praised myself silently for not stuttering. We stayed like that for a couple of seconds, and I found myself leaning down slightly to smell her. God, I'm such a creep. Her arms receded from my waist, and I withdrew my arms as well. She gave me a soft smile which made my heart soar, and scooped up her clothes. "See you, Spence." she smiled again, and walked out of my room. Not long after, I heard the dull thud of her clothes, and walked out to see what was going on.

Big mistake. Emily and JJ were standing there, staring at (Y/N), and then back at me. They looked like they were heading down for breakfast. JJ started giggling. "You are _so_ busted." Emily snickered. My face went completely red, and so did (Y/N)'s. "Ah, E-Emily! It's not like that!" I squeaked. She gave me a look. "Enlighten us, then." JJ crossed her arms. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. "(Y/N) was getting out of control, so I told Rossi if she could stay at my room, and he said yes. I took her to my room, and she asked me to get her some clothes, but she didn't have her card with her. I gave her my shirt, and we fell asleep. End of story." I explained, my cheeks burning fiercely.

Emily and JJ started snickering again. "Sure, lover boy." Emily smirked. My cheeks throbbed. They started walking away, but (Y/N) asked them a question. "Wait...was Penelope really at the hotel with us?" she asked. JJ and Emily nodded. "Derek told her that we were celebrating, and she wanted to tag along, so she made the drive." Emily shrugged. "Kevin drove her back." JJ finished. They walked off, but JJ nudged me and winked. I strode back into my room when (Y/N) walked back into hers, and got in the shower. After making sure I was squeaky clean, I got out, dried myself off, and changed into a light blue shirt, a navy blue sweater vest, and dark slacks.

I adjusted my burgundy tie, and combed my wet curls, which hung limply on my face. I slid on my shoes, grabbed my go-bag, and walked out the door. I stood beside (Y/N)'s door, waiting for her to come out. I waited for about fifteen minutes, when I actually realized what I was doing. Why am I waiting? I should just go. But when I turned my back, I heard the door open, so I turned around. She wore an oversized, light yellow sweatshirt with a sunflower, and high-waisted, light jeans. She wore yellow high-top Converse. I could tell that she had just taken a shower too, because her usually wavy hair hung slackly. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and adjusted her go-bag.

"Oh, hey." she smiled. I waved awkwardly. "How's your head?" I asked. She laughed softly. "Better." We walked in silence towards the elevator, our shoulders bumping into each other sometimes. We reached the elevator, and I pressed the 1st floor button. The elevator shifted beneath us as we began our descent in silence. After a few seconds of shy smiling and fleeting glances, the elevator opened up with a *ding,* and we both walked over to where our team was waiting for us. Derek approached me with a sly grin. "There's the man of the hour!" he boomed, slinging his arm around me.

My cheeks grew hot, and I slapped his arm. I heard (Y/N) stifle a giggle as she walked towards Emily and JJ. Hotch cleared his throat. "Alright, everyone. We're going to be returning to Quantico. We have a new case." Hotch announced grimly. We all walked out of the hotel towards the black SUVs to take us to the jet.

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(Y/N) sat motionlessly on the couch, her eyes closed as the jet took off. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, and opened her eyes. "Motion sickness." she reminded me. I nodded, and rose from the couch to get something to drink. I returned with a bottle of water for (Y/N), and a coffee for myself. She smiled when I gave her the bottle. "Spencer, you didn't have to." she said softly. "I know." was all I said. She opened the water, and took a sip. She cleared her throat. "Okay, everyone, I just have to ask. How bad was I?" she grimaced, waiting for everyone to say something.

"You told me that I shouldn't tell your boss that you've been drinking." Hotch answered, not looking up from his book. She groaned. "You tried to undress on the dance floor." JJ snickered. Emily laughed, and (Y/N)'s cheeks grew red. It was adorable, seeing her blush spread from her nose, to her cheeks, and all the way up to the tips of her ears. "You told me that I looked like the Greek God....Hephaestus?" Derek commented. She blushed deeper. "You asked me if I was in the movie, "The Godfather."" Rossi chuckled. She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"You called me, and I quote, 'A sexy Albert Einstein.'" I laughed at the memory. So did everyone else. (Y/N) sighed. "Don't ever let me drink again." she lamented. After a while, everyone was quiet, doing their own things. Hotch was reading, Emily and JJ were playing a game on their phone, Derek was listening to music, Rossi was taking a nap, and (Y/N) got out her phone. "What'cha doing?" I asked casually, peering at her screen. She smiled softly. "I'm gonna listen to an audiobook. Wanna listen?" she handed me one of her earphones. I looked at it uncertainly.

She chuckled and nudged me playfully. "Come on, Spence, how low do you think of me? I sanitize my earphones after each time I use them." she sighed, feigning hurt. I laughed softly, and took the earphone. I lodged it in my ear, and she began to play the audio, which I instantly recognized as "A Thousand and One Nights." After a few hours, which felt like minutes, the jet landed in Quantico. "Come on, everyone. Let's race against time." Hotch announced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The details of the case will be revealed in the next chapter.


	9. Dirty Cowboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The B.A.U. investigates a high-priced call girl that is killing her clients, while you and Spencer subtly bond. Told through your eyes. Based on Criminal Minds Season 4 Episode 16 "Pleasure Is My Business."

_**Your P.O.V.** _

Hotch received a call regarding the case about a few minutes after the landing. After a few minutes of conversing on the phone, Hotch sighed, and hung up. "That was the attorney general Patrick Jackson. He wants us to come to Dallas, Texas right now." Your eyebrows shot up. "Right now, right now?" you questioned incredulously. Hotch nodded. "He said that he would review the case at The Cutler hotel. "Everyone, settle in. We're taking off for Dallas, Texas." You sighed, and you plopped down on the couch, Spencer sitting next to you. "The victim was Hoyt Ashford, a hedge fund manager. He was found in his hotel room, and there was another, Michael Stanton."

"Patrick believes that a female high-end prostitute did this, as Mr. Ashford withdrew $10,000 every Wednesday in cash." "Female serial killers are a fascinating field." you remarked. "We don't have much information on them, but what we _do_ know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies." You realized you were rambling, so you closed your mouth, flushing slightly."Because there's no sexual gratification when a woman kills." Derek finished. "Exactly. Murder is the goal." Spencer added. "They don't have to do anything extra."

"So, basically, women are more efficient at killing." JJ summed up. "Historically, they have had body counts in the hundreds." you answered. "So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?" Hotch inquired. "Money, drugs, PTSD." Derek answered. "At some point, every call girl, no matter how well paid, gets coerced into an activity she didn't consent to." Rossi commented. "Aileen Wuornos used to purposefully stage paid sexual encounters as an excuse to murder men she thought would rape her." Emily shrugged. Spencer took a sip of his coffee, and you took a swig of your water.

"But Wuornos was psychotic and disorganized. I think this girl's poisoning them before she has sex with them." Hotch countered. "She's using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine. It's a popular rat poison in China, easily soluble in alcohol." Spencer remarked. "Poison is the perfect M.O. Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they're getting lucky. Does that mean something to you?" Rossi asked Hotch. "Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex." Hotch responded. "She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly." Rossi added. "She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them." Hotch acknowledged.

"So, she's not just organized, but she's also methodical." Spencer took another sip of his coffee. "She decides early which one of her clients are worth killing and which aren't and she plans accordingly." Derek replied. "Maybe the victims all share the same fetish." Emily suggested. "Both victims were in their 50's, highly visible.Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it." Derek retorted. "And we're facing a corporate culture that's do everything to keep us out." Hotch exhaled. "Actually, I had some luck there." JJ answered.

"Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died." "She's agreed to talk to us?" Hotch questioned. "Yeah, but because every silver lining has a dark cloud, uh, the hedge fund released a statement: "Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison." JJ quoted. "They're already trying to close rank." "Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?" Spencer piped. "What do you mean?" Hotch inquired. Spencer motioned for you to grab the folders, and you did so. You handed them to him, and he pulled out a paper. "The press released the same statement for the first victim. Uh, "According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home." Spencer concluded.

"Reid and (Y/L/N), start with the wife, see if you can open her up. JJ, call the lawyers and tell them I want to meet both of them." Hotch instructed. "You want to play them off each other?" Rossi questioned. "I think one of them wrote both press releases. Let's see which one calls us back." Hotch answered. Spencer's body language shifted when Hotch said that you and Spencer would go together. He grinned, and took another sip of his coffee.

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"Mrs. Ashford, we're very sorry about your husband." you said softly. "I've been getting nothing but condolences all day. I feel like a hypocrite for accepting them, knowing how he died." Mrs. Ashford snarled the last part. "We think your husband might have been targeted because of something...sexual he did with this call girl." Spencer murmured. Mrs. Ashford inhaled sharply, and looked down. 'We know this is hard, but is there _anything_ you can tell us about what he liked?" you asked. "In bed?" Mrs. Ashford replied. You nodded. "I can sum it up in one word. Younger." Mrs. Ashford looked uncomfortable, but you had to keep going.

"How much younger?" Spencer inquired. "24, 25. It's...That was when I met him." Mrs. Ashford answered with a rueful smile. "So, your age difference was part of the attraction?" you questioned. "Are you kidding? It was the whole relationship." Mrs. Ashford's voice wavered. "Mrs. Ashford, no offense, but...your husband spent a lot of money on this woman. Was there anything else at all that he liked from a younger woman _besides_ the ego boost?" Spencer requested. "There's a certain kind of man, Agent, for whom the only kind of sex that matters is the ego boost. But in a marriage like ours, after a few years, it doesn't come voluntarily anymore. You have to work at it. Or, in my husband's case...pay for it." Mrs. Ashford shuddered.

"Our marriage isn't anything like yours, I'm assuming." Mrs. Ashford added lightly. Spencer flushed red, and so did you. "Uh..w-we're not married, M-Mrs. Ashford." Spencer laughed awkwardly. She looked at you two, surprised. "Really? You guys are like two peas in a pod."

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You and Spencer returned to The Cutler hotel to present what you information you had. Hotch had already left to meet with the lawyers, so it was just you, Spencer, Derek, Emily, Rossi, and JJ. They had made an information board about the UnSub, which might help with the profile. JJ was speaking on the phone with Hotch when you and Spencer walked in. "JJ, both lawyers said that they would be here at noon." Hotch's voice came through the phone. "They both called back and they said that they would meet you at the Manchester Center." JJ replied. "It's almost 12:20. Neither of them are here. Can you text me the numbers? I need to call." Hotch sighed.

"Agent Hotchner?" came a woman's voice. "Never mind. She's here." Hotch spoke. "She?" JJ asked. "Yes." was all Hotch said before he hung up.

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Hotch had called JJ later, explaining that you and Reid needed to meet at a specific address. Spencer was driving, as usual, but you got in the front seat to sit next to him. He looked at you with a questionable expression. "I think I can get used to it." you shrugged. He smiled faintly, and began to drive towards the house. The road was slightly bumpy, and that made you pretty nauseous, but you were able to power through it. You made small talk with Spencer, knowing small details about him. His father walked out on his family when he was a little boy, and his mother is a schizophrenic. 

You then told him that your mother walked out of you when you were a child, and your father has Alzheimer's. He looked at you, incredulous. "Wow. We both have a parent who disappeared, and one with a mental illness." he remarked. "You really are me if I was a girl." you smiled slightly, and the journey was continued in silence. You both stopped in front of a "For Sale" house, which was the address where Hotch wanted to meet. "I thought Hotch said that we were going to meet a madam here." you questioned as Spencer helped you out of the car like he always did.

"Actually, there's a lot of overlap between real estate and sex work." Spencer observed as you both began walking towards the door. "Property is a safe and inspection-free investment for large sums of cash. Most brownstones used to be owned by a gigolo." Spencer rambled. He was cut off when someone shouted, "Well, hello, you two!" "Ah. Are you the-" Spencer began, but he was cut off again. "Isn't this neighborhood just fabulous?" a woman in her late 40's walked up to you two, wearing a red work jacket, a black shirt, and a matching red work skirt. She wore black heels that made her taller than she actually was.

"And you're gonna love this house." she gushed. She motioned for you and Spencer to come inside. "You two need lessons in faking it. I teach a class." she commented. "Uh, I'm--I'm sorry." you stammered. "I just--I want to be clear. You are a madam, right?" you asked. "You arrange dates for escorts?" "All I arrange are meetings. What happens between two consenting adults when that meeting is over is something I'm not liable for." she quipped. You nodded timidly. "Now...who wants a scone?" she asked cheerfully. She walked towards the kitchen, where you and Spencer followed.

You then gave her the information you had on the UnSub. "Oh, yes. We all know about this woman. She's terrible for business." she sighed. "I guess there's only so many men that can, uh, afford the service you provide." Spencer spoke. "Well, that's certainly true. But the way she's behaving, she's only hurting herself." she replied, shaking her head. "And why is that?" you questioned. "An escort's client list is the most important investment she has. It's her daily income and her retirement package when she sells the list." she replied. "So she isn't working with a service, is she?" you inquired. "No madam would allow an escort to kill off the clientele."

"What about the, um, type of work your employees do?" Spencer asked. "We're sort of operating under the assumption that this escort is, um, killing men who...make her perform a...specific sexual act." Spencer seemed a bit flustered by the end, which you thought was slightly adorable. "What did you have in mind, sweetie?" the madam smirked. "I--I don't even--I don't know." Spencer mumbled, his flushed cheeks becoming more obvious. "If I may, I think you're looking at this all wrong. Start with this question--Why would a man pay a woman 5 figures?" the madam spoke. "It's not for sex, is it?" you asked.

"Of course, you've got to be good in bed to be successful. But that's the easy part." the madam explained. "What's the difficult part?" you questioned. "What men want more than the no-strings-attached sex is a therapist. Someone who will absorb the worst parts of their personalities." the madam continued. "Their fears and insecurities." Spencer added. "Everything they can't take home to their wife. That's what I groom my girls to do--How to talk to these men. How to listen." the madam continued. "Don't get me wrong, deviancy comes with the territory. I can't tell you how many men need to be submissive as an outlet from their extremely stressful jobs.

"I _can_ tell you that if the sex was the reason she was killing these men, she would have broken long before she charged $10,000." the madam concluded. "So it isn't how these men act _in_ bed, it's how they act out of it." Spencer murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is super long! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The case will probably be continued in the next! Excited for 4/20? I have a special chapter for that day!


	10. Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case from the first chapter is continued in this chapter. The B.A.U. investigates a call girl killing her clients. Told through Spencer's eyes.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

(Y/N) and I drove back to The Cutler hotel silently, going over the information we had just received. When we were pulling into the parking lot, something caught my eye. One of the sections were closed off, and there were certainly a lot of people from the CSI. We both ran inside, and ran towards the giant group. Hotch was the only familiar one there. "Reid, (Y/L/N), glad you could join me." he said vaguely. I looked over to where Hotch was looking, and my stomach heaved. There was a gagged, tied-up, naked dead body in the elevator. "Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here." Hotch informed. "Poisoned?" (Y/N) asked. "And staged." I added. "She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found." Hotch spoke.

"The lipstick's new." (Y/N) commented. "Done postmortem. I thought that you said that female serial killers don't leave signatures?" Hotch questioned. I shrugged. "Usually, female serial killers don't leave a signature. I didn't specify that they couldn't." I retorted. "She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable. Now, she wants to be noticed." (Y/N) suggested. Just then, a chubby, aging man walked towards us. "Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?" he demanded. "I'm Hotchner." Hotch replied. The chubby man held out a pudgy hand. "Larry Bartlett. I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries." he introduced himself. 

Hotch didn't take his hand. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett." Hotch said coolly. "Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels. She said you're a very reasonable man." Bartlett replied. "Escort him out, please." Hotch called over to one of the security guards. "No, wait. Please. The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?" Bartlett pleaded. "We're not about to lie for you." (Y/N) scoffed. "You don't have to lie, youngster. Just don't comment." Bartlett sneered. (Y/N) glowered at his nickname. _I don't like his tone..._ "Excuse us." Hotch said curtly. He led us a reasonable distance from Bartlett, and he began talking.

"Is there any reason to go public yet?" Hotch asked. "Validating her is exactly what she wants." (Y/N) replied. "If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake." I agreed. "He doesn't need to know that." Hotch murmured. He gave us a look, and we walked back to Bartlett. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything." Hotch spoke. Bartlett nodded slightly. "Everything?" he asked. Hotch nodded. "Reid, (Y/L/N), go update the board, will you?" Hotch requested. "Yes, sir." (Y/N) piped.

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"18 cars, 6 houses, and 3 boats." I remarked while (Y/N) put up pictures. "Can you even boat in Dallas?" I asked, wiping my forehead. I assumed (Y/N) was hotter than I was, with her wearing a large sweatshirt. "You know, when you're talking about that much money, 10 grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner." she commented. If (Y/N) was hot, she sure didn't show it. "Are you there, Garcia?" Hotch asked. "Affirmative!" Penelope chirruped. "I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave" JJ shrugged. "And here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is wrong." JJ shuddered. 

(Y/N) laughed slightly. It was a golden sound--the bubbling sound of a happy child. It somewhat comforted me. "Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?" I groaned. "Yeah, his ex-wives." Hotch replied. "Fielding was married 4 times. He didn't have prenups the first two, but he did everything he could to cut off his ex-wives." "Are there children involved?" (Y/N) inquired. "Yes, with 3 of the wives." Hotch responded. "Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?" "You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick." Penelope commented.

"What did you find?" (Y/N) asked. "Well, all 3 of our dearly departed rich guys were embroiled in bitter court battles over how much to pay in alimony and child support, and even when the court ruled in the wife's favor, which was almost always, these 3 charmers, just, you know, decided not to pay." Penelope sighed. "Garcia, can you generate a list of high-profile Dallas CEO's who are holding out on their ex-wives?" Hotch requested. "One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out!" Penelope hung up. "So why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?" Hotch asked. "For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him." I suggested.

"They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold." JJ exhaled. "Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities." (Y/N) remarked. "Meanwhile, most prostitutes come from broken homes, she's listening to pillow talk. Could serve as some sort of trigger." I commented. "How their ex-wives are cheating them out of money, how their kids are nagging them." (Y/N) agreed. "Everything that these men take for granted she never had." Hotch concluded. "Well, should I assemble the police for a profile?" JJ asked.

"I just don't think it's gonna help." Hotch responded, shaking his head. "She lives in a completely different world than they do." "Same with the news-watching public." I added, rubbing my temples. "And the CEO's who sleep with her won't admit to it." (Y/N) sighed. "Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them." JJ groaned. Everyone was silent for a moment. "What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?" Hotch suggested. "They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman." "Because every time we've approached them, they've circled the wagons." (Y/N) spoke.

"What makes you think this is going to be any different?" "Because she's putting them at risk, too." Hotch replied.

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"We're looking for a white woman between the ages of 25 and 30. She's paid between 10- and $15,000 per session, and she's very well versed in the world of money and privilege." Hotch informed. "Even though she's a call girl, she doesn't look like one. She could pass as a businesswoman or a co-worker. You've probably written up her personal expenses as losses. Shoes, jewelry, clothing." JJ spoke. "Your bosses pay her in cash, but they may also be paying her in other ways--taking care of her, a new car, paying for her medical bills, even." (Y/N) announced. "She probably did not grow up with a father figure, and she is now turning that rage toward clients who walk out on their families." Emily commented.

"What's going to happen once this woman is caught?" a woman asked. "She'll be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." Hotch responded. "What about the other men she's sleeping with, the ones she doesn't kill?"the woman persisted. "What about them?" Emily asked. "Will they be prosecuted?" the woman inquired. Hotch stepped in. "Right now, we're concentrating on stopping her from killing again." "That's all well and good, but our employers are gonna ask us about the risks involved in cooperating with an FBI investigation." a man piped up. "Tell your employers that the risk is not only a physical one. She's compromising privileged information as well." Hotch answered.

"After she sleeps with these men, they talk to her. It's part of the release they get in seeing her." I added. "All that dirty laundry you've worked so hard to cover up? She knows it." Emily stated. "As long as she's out there, it's not just your clients that are vulnerable. Your firms are, too." JJ continued. "Excuse me?" a woman said in the back. "I'm Allison Barnes. I'm a lawyer at Webster Industries where Joseph Fielding worked." "This is really not the time." Bartlett said firmly. "We'd like to hear what she has to say." Hotch responded. "Go ahead, Miss Barnes." "A while back, I, um, looked at some paperwork that Mr. Fielding filed about a penthouse downtown. I asked him what he'd be using it for, and he just kind of chuckled and said it was for a friend. Is that the kind of information you're looking for?" Barnes asked.

"Do you have an address?" JJ requested. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The case will be continued in the next chapter.


	11. Penthouse Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case of the killed clients is continued. Told through your eyes.

_**Your P.O.V.** _

You all silently burst into the penthouse and walked around, your guns pointed in front of you. You followed Derek and Spencer to the bedroom. You walked over to the closet, Derek was examining her bed, and Spencer was looking at the shelves. "You got anything?" Morgan called. "No. And she seems too smart to leave a receipt laying around." you called back. "Yeah. Ruins the mystique. She's gotta be whatever the customer wants." "Hey, look at this." you remarked. "She's got a lot of high-end designer jewelry here, and then this." you handed the small, silver ring to Morgan, who attempted to put it on his pinky. It didn't even fit halfway.

"It's way too small to be an adult's." Morgan commented. "She probably kept it from her childhood." "Oh, it's a purity ring." Spencer observed. "By wearing it, you promise to save yourself from marriage." Morgan clicked his tongue. "She broke that promise a long time ago." Morgan walked over to the closet, and pulled out a piece of clothing. He held it up. Turns out, it was a naughty nun's outfit. "Hey, Reid, (Y/L/N)." he called. You walked over. He held it up so it covered your sweatshirt. "Got a whip?" he grinned, while you laughed and shoved him playfully. You looked over at Spencer, who had an odd expression. _Was he...jealous?_

Just then, you all heard the telephone ring in the living room. You all jogged over to where Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss were. "Prentiss should answer. If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them." Spencer suggested. "Unless she's calling in for her messages." Morgan chided. He took out his phone, and dialed a number. "Yeah, Garcia, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?" Morgan requested. "I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few." Garcia replied. "I'm gonna stay on the line." Morgan told her. "Prentiss, get ready to vamp. She's gonna work it." Hotch informed.

Just then, the ringing stopped, and a recording played. "Hi, it's me. You know what to do." Prentiss looked up. The message played out. "Aaron? I know you're up there. Pick up. Aaron Hotchner." the voice kept saying. Hotch looked at everyone, then strode over to pick up the phone. "Hello?" Hotch spoke. He was silent, then he spoke again. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours. Can we start there?" Hotch requested. "I thought I could trust you, Aaron." the voice came through the phone. "Who says you can't?" Hotch replied. "I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?" the voice asked.

"No. It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you." Hotch answered. "And I thought you were so...upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube. And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world." the voice sniffled. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I?" Hotch asked. "Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families. Who deserve to be punished." "Did you walk out on your family?" the voice asked. "No. My wife left me." Hotch responded, somewhat hesitant. You felt your eyes go wide. You didn't know that about your boss, and you instantly felt this wave of sympathy.

"Do you have kids?" the voice asked. "I have a son." Hotch answered. "How often do you see him?" the voice inquired. "I try to see him every week." Hotch sighed. The voice scoffed. "Do you _see_ him every week?" "No, I don't get there as often as I want." Hotch seemed a little uncomfortable. The voice was silent for a moment. "I believe you." she finally said. "But don't compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You're just another whore." the voice sneered. "How am I a whore?" Hotch questioned. "You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars." the voice began to vent.

"Garcia?" Derek called. "I'm in on the land line, triangulating the cell. Give me, like, 60 seconds." Penelope replied. Derek motioned for Hotch to keep talking. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?" Hotch inquired. The voice sighed. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way." Hotch replied. "No, Aaron. You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody, because you're in their pocket. You just want me to disappear, just like they do." the voice said angrily. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You've been betrayed so many times, you don't know who to trust. And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue. Am I right?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah." her voice broke. "Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help that you need. I won't let you disappear." Hotch murmured. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up." the voice hissed. A few seconds later, a gunshot could be heard. "Garcia, talk to me." Derek urged. Penelope gasped. "Oh my God, was that--" "Garcia, focus." Derek told her firmly. "Um, uh, uh..." "Hello?" Hotch asked. The woman hung up. "Uh...Got it!" Penelope exclaimed. "1818 Corinth Avenue." "Let's go!" Hotch shouted.

Sirens blared as the black SUVs raced to 1818 Corinth Ave. For some odd reason, there were reporter vans everywhere. You put on a bulletproof vest, but before you could get out, Spencer helped you out again. Of course, that drew a lot of attention for the reporters, who began taking pictures. You slid out, and jogged to where Hotch was headed, Spencer and Emily following you. You saw a black SUV, the only car in the garage, but you were too late. The man was already dead.

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 _"Don't compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You're just another whore."_ You were all grouped around the laptop, the audio of the phone call made earlier playing through the speakers. Spencer turned off the audio. "Her use of the word 'whore' is interesting. It suggests she's trying to disassociate herself from her actions." Spencer commented. "But she's become more personal with the murders." Emily remarked. "She's changed her M.O. from poison to a gun." "And she changed her victimology." JJ piped. "Trent Rabner was faithful to his wife until she died. They didn't have kids." Her whole justification for who's worth killing and who isn't is gone." Rossi sighed.

"She's obviously devolving. This is gonna be ugly. She's the type who could go on a spree and take out anyone she sees as a target." Derek acknowledged. "Can we go to the end just before she pulls the trigger?" Hotch requested. Spencer leaned forward and played the audio. _"Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way." "No, Aaron. You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody, because you're in their pocket. You just want me to disappear, just like they do."_ Hotch leaned forward and turned off the audio. "Who's 'they'?" Hotch questioned.

"'They' could be the men she sleeps with." you suggested. "No, it's bigger than that now. She's lumping Hotch in with the lawyers." Derek chastised. "So maybe it's anyone in a position of power who could cover this up. Cover her up." Emily suggested. "The purity ring you found--you said it was tiny?" Rossi suddenly asked you. "Only a child could wear it." you nodded. "She wouldn't buy that for herself. It was a gift. Maybe she's talking about her father." Rossi suggested. "Well, if her father was anything like the CEOs, he probably walked out on her, too." JJ sighed. "Okay, so, you're rich, you decide to start sleeping with men who are like your father to get back at him. How do you go about finding your clients?" Emily asked.

"Could she have started with the service?" JJ suggested. "She wouldn't need to. The madam says that she trains these girls how to act around men. This UnSub already knows how to do that." Spencer contradicted. "She said something else, too. She said that your client list was like your 401k. When you sell it, you retire. So maybe our UnSub bought her client list from another call girl." Emily theorized. "It makes sense. They're expensive names. Only someone who came from money could afford it." Derek agreed. "So, who's recently retired?" Hotch asked.

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"You're kidding." the lawyer spoke, looking from you to Rossi to back at you. "You keep tabs on who your clients sleep with. You know who got out of the game." Rossi shrugged. "You're asking me to violate attorney-client privilege." the lawyer narrowed her eyes to slits. "We're asking you to help us catch a killer." Rossi corrected. "Well, let's say that your profile is correct and she is the daughter of my client. If I do this, I'm gonna need immunity on the back end." You looked at Rossi, who's face was smooth and emotionless. "Come on, boys, give it up. I mean, you two know how this game is played." the lawyer smirked. 

You sneered at her, annoyed at her feeling of superiority. "Yes, we do. So here's the deal. Give us the information we want, or I'll arrest you on the spot for obstruction of justice. And while you're sitting in Dallas Central Booking, waiting to make your one phone call,I'll have the entire White Collar division from the FBI here from Quantico, and they'll turn your offices upside down until we find what we want. That's my offer." While you were laying out the details of your offer, her eyes grew progressively wider and wider until you thought that they would pop right out of her head. Rossi stared at you. The lawyer shifted uncomfortably, and her eyes met Rossi's. "I'd take that if I were you." he said casually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! The case might be continued in the next chapter, depending on when the next chapter is going to be released. Thanks for reading!


	12. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case that was introduced a few chapters ago is continued. They catch the UnSub and return to Quantico, where something unexpected will happen... Told through Spencer's eyes.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

It had already been three days, and we still hadn't caught the UnSub. (Y/N) and Rossi were talking to a lawyer who might know the UnSub, but, chances are, she wouldn't reveal personal details about her clients. After a few moments, (Y/N) and Rossi strode out, (Y/N) looking slightly unhappy. Rossi chuckled. "You should've seen her in there. You may be small, (Y/N), but you're nothing short of feisty." (Y/N) laughed once. "Alright, getting back to business. We discovered the location of the person who had the list before our UnSub. Reid, (Y/L/N), you'll go to her house, yes?" Rossi informed. I nodded eagerly, feeling my face split into a smile.

I decided that today was going to be the day that I ask her out. Not, like, a _date_ , but..more of a friend date. Rossi gave us the location of the house, so (Y/N) and I hopped into a car, and began our drive. At first, we were quiet, but along the way, we made small talk. After a while of questions, I asked her, "Do you believe in luck?" She shrugged, and gave me a small smile. "My mother left me, and my father has Alzheimers. I don't really believe in luck. But believing in luck can serve a useful function. It may help us coping with chance events, such as being involved in an accident, a mugging or natural disaster, as it can help people feel more optimistic when circumstances are beyond their control." she rambled on.

She realized that she was rambling, so she flushed slightly, and stopped talking. I knew in that moment that this is the woman I want to marry. I know it's too soon for that, but I've made up my mind as soon as I saw her. She smiled slightly. "Okay, okay, my turn. What is something new that you've learned in the past week?" she asked, truly curious. I though about this for a moment. "I learned that our UnSub might have a crush on Hotch." I shrugged. She erupted in a fit of laughter. It was hard not to join in. Eventually, she snorted. She fell silent, and so did I. She looked at me, and started laughing even harder. "Oh my God, I can't believe you heard that." she giggled, her cheeks slightly red.

I smiled. "It's alright. It was kind of cute." The words were out of my mouth before I could think. Instantly, my cheeks grew hot, but she laughed again. "Thanks, Spence. You're too sweet." she sighed. "Alright, my turn. Where did you grow up?" I asked her, the occasional laugh coming out of me. She sighed, wistful at the memories that my question brought up. "Believe it or not, actually grew up all the way in Australia. New Zealand, actually." I snapped my fingers. "I _knew_ it! I heard a slight accent in your words! And that explains your..um..laugh." I laughed at her burning cheeks. I was going to ask her if she wanted to go to lunch sometime, but I was interrupted.

"We're here!" she chirruped, pointing at a large house. I parked besides the sidewalk, and helped her out like I usually did. to be honest, (Y/N) had a good taste in style. Turns out, it can get pretty hot in Dallas, so today, she chose a white shirt that had blue and red stripes, dark shorts, and black Vans. To be honest, I know why people call (Y/N) 'youngster,' junior,' and 'kiddo.' She looks so young when she wears those outfits. She winced as she slid out. "What's wrong?" I asked her. She turned around. "You know how your legs stick to the leather? Mine did. Are they red?" she sighed. _She was asking me...to look aT HER THIGHS?_

I cleared my throat. "Um..you know...I--I don't....they're...not--not red." I stammered. She gave me a look. "So...they're not red?" she asked. I shook my head. She sighed in relief, and we both began walking towards the giant house. "You know, if you want people to respect you, why don't you wear suits like JJ and Prentiss?" I asked her. She shrugged. "Not my style." she said simply. "I think that it would suit you." I said, not paying attention to my words again. She nudged me playfully. "You're too sweet." She rang the doorbell. Not long after, a woman with long, blonde hair answered the door. "Yes?" she said, looking from me to (Y/N).

All the playfulness was gone from (Y/N)'s face as as she flashed her credentials, and I did the same. "We're looking for Katherine." I said. "You have the wrong house." she shrugged, and stepped back to close the door. "We're not interested in you. We're looking for the woman who bought your list." (Y/N) stated. She gazed at (Y/N), and a little boy who looked just like the woman came trotting up behind her. "Oh, honey, go play with your toys, okay?" the woman said softly, kneeling to be in front of her son. The little boy ran off, and the woman stepped aside. "Come in." "Thank you." I murmured. She closed the door behind us as (Y/N) and I sat on the couch.

"Her name is Megan. Megan Kane." she told us. (Y/N) gave me a look, and I took out my phone to dial Garcia. "And her father was a client of yours?" (Y/N) asked. "Andrew. He was one of my 8 regulars. He's a VP at Ebbett Oil now, I think. I saw him for 6 years." she babbled quickly and willingly. "And does your son..." I trailed off. She shook her head. "No. After I retired, I wanted something good in my life." she replied. "6 years is a long time to see one call girl." (Y/N) remarked. "Most men only have room for one affair at a time." she sighed. "How did Megan know about you?" I inquired. "Andrew left his wife because of me. Of course, he...married someone else, but...I wasn't surprised when Megan knocked on my door." she explained.

"You must have been surprised she wanted your list." (Y/N) commented. "Megan had all kinds of opportunities in life. Didn't you wonder why she wanted to follow your career path?" "Um, Megan didn't want to be a call girl." she replied. "She didn't?" I repeated. "She wanted me to go away. She said that after I ruined her parents' marriage that I ruined her life, too. She bought my list so that nobody else would."

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"So here's what we know about Megan Kane. Her parents divorced 8 years ago." JJ handed Hotch a paper. "After the divorce, she traveled internationally." Derek commented. "We're not sure when she came back, but she kind of fell off the grid, which is easier to do when you're making tens of thousands of dollars a night." "Garcia put a trace on her father. Communication, accounts, the whole nine. I also forwarded the picture to Dallas P.D. and upscale hotels." JJ stated. "I saw her two nights ago in the elevator of my hotel." Hotch said blankly. "Call Ebbett Oil. Tell Andrew Kane I need to meet with him as soon as possible." Hotch walked off.

_**3rd Person P.O.V.** _

"You've got the wrong woman." Kane stated. "No, we don't." Hotch responded. "Is this how the FBI does their job now, making random accusations against people they don't even know?" Kane challenged. "She kept the purity ring you gave her?" Hotch asked. Kane's walk slowed. "We found it in a penthouse that one of her customers rented for her." Hotch informed. "Andrew, don't say anything." his wife murmured. "When you cut off your ex-wife, you cut off Megan, too. We still think you can help us if you contact Megan." Hotch notified. "We're done here." Kane said bluntly. His pace increased, and so did his wife's. Hotch's walk slowed.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

"We have a tail on Kane at his home and office. Are we sure this is gonna work?" JJ asked as she strode towards us. "He knows where Megan is. He'll contact her." Hotch was sure. "To protect his reputation if nothing else." Rossi added. "Guys, I might have something. Andrew Kane just reserved a room at the Wilmore Hotel, room 2257 to be exact. Can I get an ick-ick-icky on making an appointment with your own daughter?" Garcia pretended to gag. "Megan won't show up until she's sure Kane's there. JJ tell nobody to move until we get there." and with that, we strode towards, presumably, our black SUVs to drive to the Wilmore Hotel.

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Hotch and Morgan were in the room, while the rest of us were down in the lobby. "We haven't seen Kane or his daughter down here." Prentiss told Hotch through radio contact. "There's a lot of entrances. We could have missed one." Rossi commented. "Stay where you are." Hotch said firmly. A moment later, we heard an, "FBI! Don't move!" An indistinct female voice was heard. "Let's go. They could be anywhere." Morgan growled. They stormed out of the room, and jogged down to the lobby, where we all began to speed-walk to nowhere in particular. "There are 4 luxury hotels nearby that the UnSub frequents." Emily suggested. "We could split up, but we'll go in blind." Morgan sighed. 

"Ivory marble. She mentioned it on the phone." I remarked. "The men who walk through the ivory marble foyer. "The Chase Regent." (Y/N) spoke up. "Are you sure?" Rossi asked her. I laughed slightly to myself. When has she not been sure? "Andrew liked it there." Kane's wife piped up. "He said that the staff was very discreet." "Alright, let's set up a perimeter when we get there." Hotch instructed. "Nobody gets in or out." We walked towards our black SUVs, (Y/N) struggling to keep up because of her..um..short legs. JJ informed the police of the perimeter, so they were driving alongside us. I got in with Morgan, Prentiss, and (Y/N). Morgan drove, and we sped to the Wilmore Hotel.

The sirens wailed as we pulled up besides the curb. I got out, and went to go jog over to help (Y/N) get out, but...Morgan was helping her out?! She gave him a big smile while he handed her a bulletproof vest, and she jogged off. I walked up to him. "What?" he asked innocently. "Not cool." was all I grumbled before I jogged over to (Y/N). Hotch and Morgan were the only ones inside. I saw someone inside of a dark vehicle, and pointed it out to a nearby police officer. "Sir, roll your window down." the officer commanded. The person ignored him. "Roll your window down, _now_." The person rolled his window down. It was Megan's father, Andrew.

Prentiss had walked over to Mr. Kane. "Why don't we have a chat, Andrew?" Prentiss said casually. They took Kane away in a police car, and soon after, Hotch and Morgan emerged. "Well?" (Y/N) asked them. Hotch sighed, and walked away. "She poisoned herself, but not before giving us her client list." Morgan explained. "Hey, hey, don't look so sad, baby girl." Morgan chided, lifting (Y/N)'s chin up. "We're going home." I didn't like the way Morgan was flirting with (Y/N), but I guess that's my own fault for not making a move. Maybe tomorrow I'll ask her out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They solved the case! It was Megan Kane, who had daddy issues. Who doesn't right? Anyways, ready for 4/20? I am ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	13. I've Never Been High Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope brings in cookies from a friend that she helped get rid of a hacker. Turns out, the cookies used an unknown and immeasurable amount of weed in them. Ingesting marijuana has a much stronger affect than when you smoke it, so...  
> Who knows what's gonna happen?  
> Told through Spencer's eyes (again).

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

It's been about 4 days since we got called in on a case. Shouldn't I be happy that I've been getting time off? But for some reason, I was...anxious. I wanted to see (Y/N). I almost called Garcia to tell me where she lives, which is really creepy. It was already afternoon, 12:29, and I still hadn't done anything productive. I laid in my bed with my pajamas, reading a book called 'Wuthering Heights.' I was getting to the part where Heathcliff returns, when I heard my phone chime out its usual melody. I dog-eared my book and reached over to the bedside table. I checked the caller I.D., and it was Hotch who was calling me.

"Yes, sir?" I answered the phone. "Reid, be at the building in 10. We have a case." Hotch's usual grim tone came through the phone. I know that cases mean that there are dead people, but I was excited to go back to work. I was starting to run out of things to do, and if we hadn't gotten a case, I think I would've just melted into my bed. I got up, and practically ran to the bathroom. I took a shower, dried myself off, and put on some fresh clothes. I put on my usual favorite light blue shirt and black slacks. I fixed my tie, brushed my wet hair, and began to brush my teeth. After a few minutes, I strode out of the bathroom to check the time. 12:37. I have 2 minutes left.

I slipped on my shoes, shouldered my go-bag, and ran out the door, starting the engine for my car. I pushed around 70 miles per hour, going 10 over the speed limit, earning honks from people I nearly ran over. I saw the building in the distance, and I checked the time. 12:39. I was late! I hurriedly placed my car in the parking lot, and got out, slamming the door behind me. I ran inside the building, and got in the elevator, hitting the button for the 6th floor. After a few seconds, the elevator opened up, and I got out on the B.A.U.'s floor. I immediately recognized JJ and Emily, who were talking casually. I looked around, but I saw no signs of (Y/N).

Just then, (Y/N) and Morgan strode from the break room, carrying coffees and laughing with each other. _What the hell?_ Morgan _knows_ I like her, but why is he doing this? (Y/N) was looking stunning, as always, but it looks like she took my advice. She wasn't wearing casual clothing today. She wore a long-sleeve button-up shirt that was salmon-colored. Even though it was 60 degrees outside, she wore black shorts with a matching black belt, and black military boots. Her usual long, wavy hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. This look suited her more. It made her more...mature. She spotted me, and gave me an excited smile and a wave.

"Spencer! It's so good to see you!" she beamed and gave me an unexpected hug. Immediately, my cheeks grew rosy. "Oh! Er...thank--thank you!" I replied awkwardly. "You ready to see what the case is?" Morgan asked me. I gave him a slight look, and I nodded. (Y/N) walked off to chat with JJ and Emily, so I decided to talk to Morgan. "I know, I know." Morgan sighed before I could say anything. "I know you like her. We're just friends, okay? Friendly friend time." I smiled faintly at his words, and went over to JJ, Morgan following. Surprisingly, Penelope was there. "Hey everyone! I missed you guys!" Garcia smiled and gave everyone a group hug.

She held up a floral tin can with chocolate-chip cookies inside of them. "These are cookies my friend baked for me because I got rid of a hacker, and I made the generous decision of sharing them with my favorite people!" Garcia began to hand out cookies. Everyone took one, except for me and Prentiss. Prentiss told her that she was on a diet, and I told her that there were 2.3 grams of saturated fat, 0.7 grams of polyunsaturated fat, and 1.3 grams of monounsaturated fat. Instead, she gave me a granola bar, reminding me that I need to eat. "Hey, has anyone seen Rossi? I need to give him a cookie." Just as Garcia was about to walk off, her phone rang.

"Ooh! Hello, bestie?" Garcia answered her phone, smiling. I could hear another indistinct voice, and Garcia's eyes grew wide. "O-Oh...are--are you sure?!" Garcia asked, panicked. She looked dazed when she hung up the phone, and she looked at us. "Okay. No need to panic." she breathed in, and out. "Turns out, the cookies have weed in them." I looked at her in shock, and looked at JJ, Morgan, and (Y/N). Morgan didn't really seem to care. JJ was talking about something, and (Y/N) was listening happily. Looks like the cookies hadn't kicked in yet. "Spencer, I'm gonna need you to take (Y/N) home. I'll take Derek, and Emily, you'll take JJ." Penelope whispered. I nodded, and so did Prentiss.

We walked over to them. Looks like the cookies kicked in. JJ and (Y/N) were staring at each other, motionless, and Morgan was staring at a desk lamp. "Okie dokie, everyone. I have a little announcement." Their attention snapped to Garcia. "Turns out, the cookies have weed in them." "WHAT?!" they all burst out, earning looks from passer-bys. "It's okay. (Y/N), Spencer is going to be taking you home, okay?" (Y/N) nodded, a glassy look in her eyes. "JJ, you're going with Emily, and Derek, you'll come with me!" JJ looked at (Y/N). "You're so pretty, you look like one of my dolls." JJ gushed. (Y/N) put a hand over her heart. "Really? Thank you!" _Oh, God..._

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"Here we are, home sweet home." I murmured to (Y/N), who stared vacantly out of the window. I got out, and so did she, but she started walking in the opposite direction of her home. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), stop!" I called after her. I caught up to her. Even though she had short legs, she sure did speed-walk fast. "I've never done marijuana before." she whisper-yelled."You've seen me when I'm drunk. I make poor choices when I'm drunk. I think it's best if I stay alone." "No!" I grabbed her wrist and turned her to face me. She stared up at me with giant eyes. "I...I don't think I need my neck anymore." she whispered. I stared at her. "Come on, let's go inside." I led her to her house, which was pretty big, and unlocked the door.

I led her inside, and she flopped herself on the couch, burying her face in the cushions. "Oh my God, these are softer than baby's butts.." she murmured. I chuckled to myself. I looked around her house. Not only did she have a nice taste in fashion, but she also did in home decorating. After a while, I heard her turn on the TV. I peeped to see, and, of all the things she could've put on, she put on, "Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated." She sat straight up, wide-eyed as she watched the cartoon. "Spencer." she whispered. I walked over and sat on the armrest. "Yes?" I answered. She pointed to the screen. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but...the guy in the costume is an evil bird." she covered her mouth as soon as she said that, and continued to watch the television.

After a few minutes of watching the TV, she got up. "Spencer?" she called. I looked over to her. "Yes?" "I'm hungry." She reminded me of a child, needing constant care. I shrugged. "Look in the cabinets. Maybe you'll find something." She got up, and walked over to the kitchen, where she began to dig through the cabinets, while I changed the channel on the TV to some horrible daytime TV show. "Oh, yeah. Bingo." she grinned, and pulled out a bag of chips. I sighed, and relaxed on the couch, feeling somewhat tired, even though all I did for 4 days straight was lay down. Her house was quiet, except for the chatter of the TV and the crunching of chips.

After about an hour, I heard a knock on the door. "(Y/N)! Go to your room!" I hissed at her. She shook her head. "It smells like me in there." she shrugged, and continued to eat her snack. I huffed, and walked over to open the door. To my relief, it was Prentiss who was standing in the doorway. "Hey, (Y/N)!" she called. "How's my favorite stoner?" (Y/N) walked over, and gave Prentiss a hug like a child to a mother would. "Would you like some chips?" she asked politely, holding up her bag. "Oh! Uh...thank you." Prentiss reached in and grabbed one. She turned to look at me. "Hotch wants to know why the majority of his team isn't at work today." Prentiss sighed.

"We have to talk to him?" I groaned. She nodded. "Come on, it'll be fine." With that, she walked out the door. (Y/N) began to chuckle. "Oh, dude. You're so screwed right now." I gave her a look, and walked out the door, getting in Prentiss' car.

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Prentiss and I slowly walked up the stairs that led to Hotch's office. Surprisingly, the door was open, and it never is. We were greeted with a weird sight. Hotch was spinning around mindlessly in his chair. Oh, crap. "Sir, did you eat a cookie that Garcia handed out today?" I asked him, fearing the worst. "Oh, yeah, it was so good. Are there more cookies?" he asked hopefully. "Okay, sir. You ate weed cookies." Prentiss said bluntly. Hotch stared at her, and began to laugh. "Oh! That's why I've never seen your friend around here before!" He pointed to a chair besides Prentiss. "Prentiss, go find Rossi. I think he's in the break room. Tell him what happened." I whispered. She nodded, and walked out of the room.

All of a sudden, Hotch gasped. "W-Wait, what about the case we were supposed to get?" he asked, frantic. I tried to calm him down, but it didn't work. Just then, thank goodness, Prentiss walked in with Rossi. "Hotch, it's going to be okay." Rossi murmured. "It is?" Hotch repeated, calming down. "I'm going to hand over the case to the B.A.U. in Washington, okay?" Rossi spoke softly, helping Hotch get up from his chair, and helping him out of the room. "And they'll do a good job?" Hotch whined. "Yes, they will." Hotch stared at Rossi. "I love you." "Okay! Let's go home, shall we?" Rossi guided Hotch down the stairs, and out of the building. I sighed, relieved, and walked out of the building as well, anxious to get back to (Y/N).

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When I walked in, I didn't know what was going on. (Y/N) was vocalizing 'Scotland the Brave' by plugging her nose and humming. "What...is going on here?" I asked her, fearing the answer. "I'm having a funeral." she replied matter-of-factly. I looked around. "For who?" She nodded towards the TV. "Lillian. Her brother killed her. I kind of liked Lillian." she sighed, and continued to vocalize. I chuckled softly. Realization struck her, and she turned towards me. "Oh, also, I took a dose of NyQuil, so I might knock out any second." she said casually. I stared at her. " _What?_ Why would you take a shot of NyQuil?" I hissed. She shrugged. "I was thirsty. NyQuil tastes like berries. I didn't even know it was NyQuil, until I turned the bottle around, and I was like, Oh crap, this is NyQuil!" she chuckled.

At that moment, a glossy look covered her eyes. She stared at me. "Spencer? Thank you." she murmured as she slowly laid down. "For what?" I asked her. She sighed, and closed her eyes. "For being you." I smiled to myself, and walked over to her bedroom. I walked back to the living room, and covered (Y/N) with a blanket. I love every bit of her, even the stoned her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this! Sorry if it seemed short. If you can spot the subtle Grey's Anatomy references, you'll be my favorite person in the world! Comment below if you think you know the answers.


	14. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up from your nap, and it's already 5:00 in the afternoon. You slept off your high, and you and Spencer talk. Told through your eyes.

_**Your P.O.V.** _

Your eyes snapped open at the sound of the mindless chatter of the TV. Your head throbbed slightly, and this reminded you of the time you were drunk. You slowly sat up, and looked around. To your relief, you were in your own home, unlike last time. You tried to remember what happened before you passed out. You rubbed your head with your hand, and began to recall what happened. Penelope gave you a cookie...she told you that it had weed in it, Spencer drove you home...and, after that, you couldn't remember anything. Wait...Spencer... you looked to your left, and Spencer was sitting in an armchair, fast asleep. He was a reading a book, which began to slip out of his grip.

You looked at yourself, and you realized that there was a blanket draped around you. You smiled softly to yourself, and got up, ready to change into something more comfortable. You took the blanket off of yourself, and walked over quietly towards Spencer. You took his book, dog-eared his book, and set it on the cabinet. You covered him with the blanket instead, and walked over to your room, looking through your closet to change into something more comfortable. You kicked off your boots, and undid your ponytail. You undressed, and put on a white long-sleeved shirt that had black stripes. The shirt was so long that it went slightly above your knees.

You took out your phone, and ordered some Chinese takeout. You walked over towards the living room, where Spencer was still asleep. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep...Sometimes, Spencer put up walls when he was at work. All those walls had been knocked down. You sat down on the sofa, and changed the TV to your Netflix account, where you put on The Office. You lowered the volume so that it wouldn't bother Spencer. You were in for about half an episode when the takeout arrived. Of course, the doorbell and the loud knocking woke Spencer up. He began to stir slowly as you walked over to the door to stop the knocking. 

You opened the door to reveal a man about your age in a work uniform carrying your takeout. "Hi!" you chirped. He smiled faintly, and handed you your takeout. "That's the family meal, it'll be $19.22." "'Kay, I'll be right back." You put the takeout on the kitchen counter, and grabbed your wallet, which was right besides where you put the takeout. You took out a $20 bill, and walked back to the employee. "Here's 20, keep the change." You smiled politely. He received the bill, and returned the smile. "Have a nice day." he said politely as he walked away. "You too!" you called back. You closed the door, and took the takeout bag. You walked over to the living room, and as you predicted, Spencer was awake.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and looked around, and looked at himself. "Hey." you called over your shoulder as you walked towards the kitchen to wash your hands. You dried your hands, and walked to the living room, putting the takeout bag on the glass table. "You hungry? I ordered takeout." you told him casually. He slowly straightened himself up. "What happened?" he mumbled sleepily. "I woke up, and you fell asleep. I didn't wanna wake you 'cause you looked so cozy." you smiled faintly. "I was hungry, so I got us some food." you motioned towards the food on the table. You leaned over and began to lay out the food. He groaned as he stretched. You never really noticed how tall Spencer was until now.

You sat on the floor to be closer to the food, and so did Spencer. As he did so, he scooted closer to you, and covered you with the blanket as well. You murmured a 'thank you' and passed him some food and chopsticks. You began to eat, but Spencer was having some trouble. Every time he got something with the chopsticks, he flicked it, and the food fell. You couldn't help but snicker every time it happened. He sighed, exasperated, and looked at you. "Could I get a fork?" he asked, smiling. You felt your lips form into a grin. "You don't know how to use chopsticks?" you laughed. "It's like foraging for food with number 2 pencils." he muttered, attempting to scoop up some food.

He failed again, and instead, he stabbed a piece of chicken, and popped it in his mouth. You couldn't help but erupt in a fit of giggles, covering your mouth. You calmed down, and swallowed your food. You scooted even closer to him so that your legs were touching. "Here, I'll teach you. First, rest the first chopstick in the crook of your thumb," you got your first chopstick and demonstrated, and he followed. "Hold the second stick between your thumb and forefinger," you got the second chopstick, and demonstrated. He followed your instructions again. "Bend your ring finger and little finger, and tuck the ring finger under the lower chopstick," At this time, the chopstick flicked out of Spencer's hand. 

You laughed softly, picked up the chopstick. You put Spencer's hand in yours, and put the chopsticks in his hands. "Wow, Spence. Your hands are cold." you murmured as you fixed the chopsticks. "B-Bacteria thrive in warm environments, so I always keep my hands cold. This helps slow bacterial and viral growth." Spencer explained. You locked eyes with him. His cheeks grew steadily red. You reached up, and poked his cheek. "So _lifelike_.." you murmured, before letting out quiet giggles. He laughed along with you. "Okay, okay, back to the lesson at hand." you said seriously. "Put your middle finger under the top stick," you instructed. "And move your chopsticks up and down!" 

He did as you told him, and gasped. "Oh my God, I did it!" he laughed, and reached into one of the takeout boxes, and took out some chow-mein, and ate it. "I did it!" he exclaimed. You laughed softly at his excitement, and you both began to eat in comfortable silence. After a few minutes, you both began to make small talk. He laughed at something you said. "Okay, okay, my turn. What trends did you follow when you were younger?" he asked, excitement sparkling in his eyes. Your cheeks flushed. "When I was 15, do you remember the 'Nyan Cat' trend?" He nodded. "I followed it." You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment as he laughed.

You smiled coyly as you thought of one. After you two quieted down, you asked him a question. "What do you fear is hiding in the dark?" you grinned as he paled slightly. He cleared his throat, and sighed. "Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I feel like there's someone in the dark, _watching_ me." he shivered slightly, and you pulled the blanket closer to him instinctively. "And I thought that _I_ was afraid of the dark." you giggled. Almost as if Karma herself heard you, the power went out. You let out a squeak, and cuddled close to Spencer. "Woah, it's okay.." he murmured, and he rubbed soothing circles in your back. Your generator kicked in, and the lights came back on.

You sighed in relief, and pulled away from Spencer, who was a little reluctant to let you go. You two continued to eat, until Spencer asked you another question. "(Y/N), can I ask you something? I can understand if you don't want to answer.." he sighed, suddenly serious. You nodded. "Of course." He cleared his throat before speaking again. "A few days ago, Prentiss asked you if you had a boyfriend, and you seemed somewhat hurt at the memory. May I ask why?" You inhaled sharply. "A-Again, you don't have to answer." he said waving his hands. Spencer talked with hand movements a lot. You thought it was pretty cute. You sighed, and wrung your hands nervously together.

"When I was 22, I worked in a hospital as the Chief of General surgery," Spencer made a noise of astonishment. "Really? You left a hospital for the FBI?" he asked, incredulous. You smiled slightly. "I was getting...bored. I wanted the surge of adrenaline in my body to be used for something different, you know?" He nodded. "Anyways, I was out for a lunch break, eating from a food truck, when _he_ came over to talk to me." Your nose scrunched up as you mentioned your ex-boyfriend. "Nicolas Faye. He was so handsome, I didn't even know what to think when he approached me. He...asked me out." You didn't notice the sudden moisture in your eyes. "At first, I couldn't believe how nice he was to me. He would spend thousands of dollars on me..."

"And then...the outbursts would happen," you blew out a shaky breath, and you glanced at Spencer. He was watching you intensely. "At first, they were so rare, I didn't think anything of them. He would yell at me, but almost as soon as he was done yelling, he would apologize profusely. But then...they would happen more often." You wiped furiously at the tears threatening to spill over. "He would say sorry, but they just sounded...empty. And then...the beatings would happen." Spencer grew rigid besides you, and his breath hitched. "At first, they were like the outbursts. They happened so rarely, and when they did, he would buy me gifts as a way of apologizing. One time, he beat me pretty bad, so I left his house to stay with my grandmother."

"He arrived a day later, begging for forgiveness, and giving me a 24-carat diamond necklace. Of course, young and naive me accepted his apology." You let out a quiet sob. "Once, he was yelling at one of his employees for something he did, and he seemed really upset. I came over to try and massage his shoulders....and he beat me..so bad. When he slammed the door as he left, I came to a realization. If I stayed with Nick any longer, I would die. So, I just...left. I left the hospital. I moved here, to Virginia, where I met you." you smiled slightly, despite the tears flowing thickly down your cheeks. Spencer seemed heartbroken. He pulled you into an unexpected hug, which broke down the dam. You began to sob uncontrollably.

After a few minutes, you quieted down, only letting out the occasional hiccup and sniffle. He sighed softly, and rubbed your back. You pulled back, and so did Spencer. You sniffled again, and wiped your eyes. "Thanks, Spence." you sighed shakily. He smiled softly, his gentle eyes full of concern. You glanced at the clock, and the clock read 9:25. "Wow, time flew by." you laughed slightly, pointing to the clock. He looked at the time, and made a motion to stand up, but you put a hand on his thigh. "If it's not too much to ask...stay...please." you murmured, looking at him with your best puppy-dog eyes. He sighed, and smiled softly. "Of course." You sighed, relieved, and snuggled closer to him. For some reason, Spencer gave you a feeling of safety.

You didn't care that this was against the rules. Spencer pulled the blanket closer over you two as he snuggled against you as well. You two laughed, talked, and ate more snacks as you put on movies. About halfway into the 5th movie, you started to doze off, and so was Spencer. Your head rested on his shoulder, and his head rested on top of your head. You both slipped into a blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty fluffy uwu. Next chapter, a case will be introduced, and Spencer just might ask the reader out to lunch.


	15. Update.

Hi, everyone. I'm really sorry that I haven't uploaded in a while. The family dog died, and I was mourning. I'm really sorry for not uploading in a while. Just know, I will upload a chapter soon!


	16. Inner Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prentiss learns from an old friend, John Cooley, that their mutual friend, Matthew Benton, just died from a heart attack. Prentiss had not seen either man in several years. Based on Season 4, episode 17, 'Demonology.' Spencer tries to work up the nerve to ask out the reader to lunch. Told through Spencer's eyes.

_**Spencer's P.O.V.** _

I felt something vibrate in my pocket before I was fully conscious. My eyelids felt heavy as I forced them open to look at my phone, which was the cause of the vibration. Everything below my torso had fallen asleep, including my legs, but it was worth it. Call me creepy, but I stared at (Y/N) while she slept for what felt like an hour, but, to me, all time stops when I look at her. The only light that was provided was the moonlight outside, but I memorized her perfect features; her dusky-green eyes that had flecks of brown, her silky olive skin, her freckles that dusted her naturally rosy cheeks and nose, her long lashes, and her wavy, caramel hair. She looked like an angel when she slept. My phone vibrated again, and I slowly lifted my head from hers, and reached into my pocket to take it out.

Hotch had messaged us; We had new information on a case we had been working on. Before I turned it off, I checked the time. 4:28 in the morning. Before I could wake (Y/N) up, her phone vibrated as well. She made a soft noise of complaint, and buried her face deeper in my shoulder, causing my heart to go into a frenzy. After a few more seconds of the vibrating, she finally gave in. She groaned, stretched slightly, and looked sleepily for her phone, which was in her lap. She reached for it, read the message Hotch had sent us, and sighed. She glanced at me, and our eyes locked for a few seconds. (Y/N) smiled briefly before slowly getting up, and brushing herself off.

As she walked to her room, I exhaled sharply, as if I was holding my breath while she was moving. As she began to get ready to go in, I realized that I didn't have any spare clothes. I sighed, and began to clean up the mess that we left last night. All the while, I couldn't help but keep thinking about how we "slept together." I learned a lot about (Y/N) last night, and I felt like we really did bond. She told me about her ex, and I told her about my mother. Of course, she was sympathetic and she told me to keep my chin up. That was one of the reasons why I really liked (Y/N); she was kind. I heard muffled movement, and the bathroom light clicked on, followed by the creak of the door being shut. I finished putting everything away neatly, and I attempted to make myself appear presentable.

My curly hair was disheveled, but it always looked like that, so that's fine. My clothes were stainless, so I merely took some fabric freshener and sprayed it over my clothes. I heard the sink running, and the creak of the door as (Y/N) emerged. She looked breathtaking, as always, but today, she looked adorable as well. She had donned a sky-blue button-up long sleeve, and a cornflower-blue a-line skirt. She had actually worn a tie today, a royal-blue plaid tie. She also wore white flats. She looked like a lifelike doll dressed in work clothes. She had her wavy hair tied up into a high ponytail today. I couldn't help grinning when she walked into the kitchen to make some coffee. She looked at me looking at her, and I'm assuming that she became self-conscious.

"What?" she demanded, putting a hand on her hip. I let out a snicker. "Went all out on the blue today, did we?" She huffed. "Lay off! I thought I looked sophisticated." I chuckled at her reaction, and she smiled along, her dimples showing. She made a coffee for both of us. As I stirred idly to dilute the sugar, she began dumping practically the entire sugar container. "Do you want some coffee with your sugar?" I smirked. (Y/N) glared in my direction and began to stir as well. "It's never too sweet." she sighed. I nodded in agreement. She shouldered her purse, and we both made for the door. As I opened the door for her, we were met with an icy gust of wind. We both stepped outside, on to her front porch, and admired the scene before us.

"Its's raining," she murmured. She stuck out her hand in the pouring rain, and water droplets splashed on it. She exhaled. "Spence, do you mind getting me a coat from my room?" she turned to me, the moonlight making her eyes glow. I was momentarily frozen, before I had an idea. I shrugged off my coat and handed it to her. "Here, just take mine." (Y/N) looked at the coat, and looked back at me uncertainly. "A-Are you sure?" she asked me, slowly reaching out for the coat. I smiled at her timidness. "I'm sure." She took it gratefully, and put it on. it was so long on her, it flowed past her knees. "Thank you! Now, let's go," (Y/N) grasped my hand casually, as if she's done it hundreds of time before, and she led me to our vehicles. My heart was thumping so hard, I was certain that (Y/N) could hear it.

She stopped in front of my car, and turned to me with a smile. Even with her drenched hair that was blowing everywhere, she was a goddess. "See you there." And she walked off to her own car, and drove to the FBI building. I stood there in the freezing rain for a few moments before realizing that I was soaked to the bone, so I quickly got into my car, and drove as well, hoping to catch up to her car.

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The rain hammered against the roof of my car as I pulled into a parking space a few feet away from (Y/N)'s car. She had already gotten out, and she was rushing towards the building, her hair whipping behind her. I killed the engine, and rushed inside of the building, my shoes sloshing as I took each step. My curls were limp, and they were compromising my eyesight. I rushed into the building, and ran into the elevator before it closed. "Fancy meeting you here, Dr. Reid." (Y/N) said, smiling slightly. She examined my soaked clothes, and frowned. "Now I feel bad for taking your coat." she sulked, beginning to take it off. "No, no, it's fine, really. I'll just get a coat from my go-bag." I said quickly, adjusting the coat so that it fit more snugly. She smiled up at me in a way that made my stomach erupt with butterflies.

The elevator bell announced our arrival at the B.A.U. floor. As usual, it was buzzing with work. "Hey, you two." came a voice from behind us. Emily was just entering the building, looking at us with a slight smile. Emily looked...horrible. She looked as if she was up all night. Her hair was disheveled, though that might have been because of the wind, but she looked exhausted. "Em, are you okay?" (Y/N) asked, her face lively with concern. She shrugged, not really giving an answer. Penelope approached us with a stack of files. "My lord, it's kitties and poodles out there. Did you hear it might even snow?" she said excitedly. (Y/N) looked at me, glowing with elation. She had told me she loved the snow when she was still living in Seattle. "Were you able to find anything on Tommy "V"?" Emily asked, diving into business. Penelope handed her a picture. "If, by chance, you mean Thomas Valentine, age 35, found dead in his home from dehydration as a matter of fa—" 

Penelope cut herself off when she saw the expression on Emily's face. "What's going on?" "Is Hotch still here?" Emily demanded. "Oh, I'm pretty sure he lives here." Penelope responded matter-of-factly. "Thanks, Garcia." Emily walked in the direction of Hotch's office. We all looked at her retreating figure. "Something's definitely going on..." (Y/N) muttered. We followed her quietly to see what had happened to Emily. She knocked on Hotch's office door, and remained standing in the doorway. It was silent for a moment. "What's wrong?" Hotch finally asked. "Um...I just found out that...an old friend of mine died.." Emily's voice was barely audible. Besides me, I heard (Y/N) exhale softly. "I'm sorry." Hotch sighed. "Do you need to take some time?" Emily was quiet, struggling to say the words without her voice breaking.

"Um...there's a chance that he could have been murdered, and there might be a second case." "What do you need?" Hotch inquired. "Just some leeway to check it out." Emily's voice faltered. "Of course. Anything." "Thank you." she whispered. We saw her shadow getting nearer to the exit, but Hotch stopped her. "Emily, if you want to take a few days and let us look into it..." Hotch trailed off. "Matthew was incredibly messed up...and I hadn't seen him in a long time, but he was important to me." "At least let us help." Hotch murmured. "Thank you." Emily whispered again, and she emerged from the office, tears glistening in her eyelashes. We immediately absconded so that she wouldn't know that we had eavesdropped. "Oh God, now I feel awful!" (Y/N) whisper-shouted.

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"Thanks for coming in this early." Hotch greeted us as we entered the conference room. JJ looked at me, then (Y/N), then at my coat on her shoulders, and smirked. I rolled my eyes as we all took a seat. "Where are Morgan and Prentiss?" JJ asked. "They're at the morgue, examining this man, Matthew Benton, a friend of Emily's." Hotch handed all of us a photo. I felt a twinge of guilt when he mentioned Emily. "She believed that his death may be connected to that man's." Hotch motioned to the guy in the photo. "Thomas Valentine, dehydration?" Rossi read aloud. "Did she know him?" "No, but Benton seemed to think that someone was after both of them. "One death was a heart attack and the other was from dehydration. What's the connection?" I inquired.

"I don't know if there is one." Hotch sighed. "Are the police investigating?" JJ asked. "No. Right now, we're just, uh, helping a colleague." Hotch responded. "So, we talk to the families see if there's anything suspicious." Rossi stated. Hotch nodded in agreement. "Is Emily okay?" (Y/N) asked quietly. "I'm not sure. That's why I sent Morgan to go with her." Hotch rubbed his temples. "Let's hope she pulls through."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The case will be continued in the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry if it seems short and there's no action :( Next chapter is Spencer's P.O.V, and there will be action c: I don't want to write too much for you guys to read. I'm open to comments and constructive criticism.


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